Moving Violations
by Morgan Phoenix
Summary: Bella gets pulled over on her way to her friend's house by Lt. Edward Masen of Chicago's finest.  Even though she doesn't know him, she has a strong sense of lust for him. Little does she know that she'll be running into him a lot more. AH. ON TEMP HIATUS
1. 510

**A/N**: Welcome to my first fanfiction here on FFN. I'm glad you made it. Let me know how you think about this story with a review. Sorry if there are any grammatical errors or typos. I do not have a beta yet—but if you're interested in this story and would like to help out, send me a message!

Title: Moving Violations

Category: Drama, Romance

Rating: M

Summary: Bella gets pulled over on her way to her friend's house by Lt. Edward Masen of Chicago's finest. Even though she doesn't know him, she has a strong sense of lust for Lt. Masen. Little does she know that she'll be running into him a lot more frequently—and not for legal reasons.

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns _Twilight_ and the characters within. This story and its plot is a product of my overactive imagination—and my hope that I someday get pulled over by a hot police officer. This story is rated **M** for lemony sex scenes, foul language, and whatever else makes you fangirl. It is in Bella's POV, unless otherwise noted.

Music: "Float On" by Modest Mouse

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><p>Chapter 1: 510<p>

Of all the days I was late, today was _not _the best day. I mean, I'm _never _late to anything. Except for today.

I had promised my best friend and coworker, Rosalie Hale, that I would leave the hospital in plenty of time to make it to her house to help bake pies and cakes to take to her fiancé's house for Thanksgiving. Sadly, I got tied up at work with one of my favourite patients and ended up staying an extra three hours. Which wouldn't have been a big deal—aside from the fact that Rosalie had sent me 15 texts that started off nice ("Are we still on for tonight?") to pissed off ("Where the fuck are you?")—which I knew she wrote just to get me riled on her usage of the f-bomb.

With the added pressure of being so late, I frantically changed out of my scrubs into my street clothes of a slouchy grey sweater, skinny dark wash jeans and knee high black boots, not even bothering with putting on a decent bra underneath my shirt because that's how late I was, but instead put it inside my tote bag that now doubled as my purse/home-away-from-home. I rushed out of the hospital to my beater of a truck and prayed to the car gods that the ancient Chevy truck would start without too much of a hassle.

Thankfully, the engine roared to life in the first attempt. The stars are aligned in my favour so far.

I quickly glanced around before pulling out of my parking spot. When I safely merged onto the street, I rummaged through my bag to grab my makeup so I could fix my face between stop lights. Normally, I would like to take my time to put my makeup at the hospital's locker room. But then again, I'm _never_ late—therefore, I am no longer doing the "normal" thing. Besides—do you know how many accidents are caused by women putting on makeup while driving? Google it if you don't believe me. *

In between putting on lipgloss and reapplying my blush, I could see the distinctive blue and red lights flashing behind me.

Oh. My. God. What have I done?

I mean, I've never been pulled over in my life! What did I do wrong? I glanced at the speedometer and noticed that I was doing 35 in a clearly marked 15 mph zone. Doesn't 20 over the limit mean I could get arrested and charged with a felony? If this is true, my medical license would surely be revoked!

Thank the Lord I didn't put on my mascara because surely it would be all smudged with the uncontrollable tears leaking out of my eyes. Why did my emotions get hardwired to my tear ducts? By the time I see the police officer climb out of his cruiser, I've not only got full-on waterworks going but I'm pretty damn sure I have snot running out of my nose.

I turned to the tapping on the driver's side. With great embarrassment, I crank my window down.

"License and…uh… Ma'am? Are you okay?" the police officer asked.

I can't make out the features of the police officer through my tears. But I'm pretty sure the police officer is a male, judging by the deep timbre of his voice.

"Y-y-y-yes. Ss-s-s-s-sorry. I don't get (SNIFF) pulled over often. As in, ever…"

"Well ma'am, I need your license and registration."

I nod, sniffling some more, and then turn to my tote bag… Which has somehow magically disappeared from the passenger seat and onto the floor of my truck. I strain to reach it, and even with my belt off, I can't reach it. I sniff again, wiping the tears and snot off my face before I turn to him.

I am shocked at the sight of police officer standing at my door. It's obvious that he's just as uncomfortable about the situation as I am. His eyes are a shocking shade of green—like new grass, but with flecks of gold. I can't tell what colour his hair was as it was under his hat, but it looked dark. He had a strong jaw that had a goldish-brown 5 o'clock shadow. His nose was long and straight… And bright red. It was then that I noticed the snow falling.

"Uhm… Would it be alright for me to climb out to pull my purse out from the other side? It's fallen to the floorboard and I can't seem to reach it," I ask.

"That'll be fine. Just do it slowly and keep your hands out where I can see them," he answers.

I slowly climb out of my truck, keeping my hands up with the palms out so he can see that I am unarmed. He's shifts from one foot to the other, with his hand resting on the holster of his gun.

In retrospect, him being ready to pull his gun out at a moment's notice would have caused me to fall into a fit of laughter. Timid Bella Swan who has never done a wrong thing in her life had a cop being so worried that he was ready to pull his gun out.

When I reach to the other side of my truck, I grab my tote from the floor and walk back to the driver's side. Just as I pass around the front driver's side fender, I whack my leg with my bag –causing me to upend my bag and all of the items within in.

Including my sheer purple bra. The one I chose not to wear because I was late.

Damn being late. I swear to never be late ever again.

I gape at my belongings and my bra, which is currently resting on top of a paperback book and my hairbrush. If God is merciful, He would grant me a gentleman for a police officer. I quickly drop to my knees, ignoring the fine dusting of snow on the roadway with the intent to grab my bra and shove it in the pocket of my jeans. Screw the other shit. I'll leave the rest of it to rot in hell for all I care. Except, I can hear the police officer drop to his knee to help me gather my belongings as well. He picks up other objects _around _my bra.

Why would anyone carry so much shit in their bag? Seriously?

"I'm _so_ sorry!" I stammer, picking up a book, candy wrappers, my hairbrush, who the hell cares.

"Don't worry about it ma'am," he states as he rises to his feet.

Is that a smile I hear in his voice? I stand when I gather everything into my bag and notice the half-crooked smirk forming on his full lips.

_Shit. _Guys should so not have lips like that. Those absolutely nummy…

"You just mind your speed and I'll let you go with a verbal. That sound alright to you?" Officer Nummy Lips asks.

"Uh… What? Oh! Warning. Thank you! I really appreciate it," I stammer. I cannot stop looking at his mouth and not wonder what they would feel like if I press mine to his.

"No problem. Have a great Thanksgiving, ma'am," he says, tapping his hat with his forefinger in a semi-salute.

I stand there, watching him walk back to his patrol car. When I realise that I've been staring at his ass too long, I shake my head and climb back into my truck.

Now I understand the appeal of why some people are late.

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><p><strong>AN**: ::ducks:: So what do you think? Yeah? Sorry it ended up being so long! I hope to have each chapter just as long. That way, I can get this story out in 12-15 chapters (hoping). Reviews get a bit of the next chapter!


	2. I Can

**A/N**: Still free-winging it without a beta. If you'd like to take on this awesome task, please let me know VIA PM!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns _Twilight_ and the characters within. This story and its plot is a product of my overactive imagination—and my hope that I someday get pulled over by a hot police officer. This story is rated **M** for lemony sex scenes, foul language, and whatever else makes you squee in your pants. It is in Bella's POV, unless otherwise noted.

Music: Dave Matthews Band – "I Did It"

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><p>Chapter 2: I Can't Help Myself<p>

"I know I'm late! I'm so sorry!"

I follow the smells of pumpkin, cinnamon and bread to Rosalie's kitchen, where she is currently standing at her butcher block island where she currently is holding a knife over rolled out dough. Like me, Rosalie is a surgeon. So I know that if she wanted to throw that knife at me, or even gut me from stem to stern, she totally could before I could bat an eye.

"You better damn well be sorry!" She exclaims, waving the paring knife around. "Where the fuck have you been? I've been worried!"

"Long story, Ro," I shake my head, toeing off my boots at one of her barstools. My poor little feet have been crammed in shoes since I started my shift some 14 hours ago.

"Well it's a good thing we'll be cooking till kingdom come! Spill."

"Chill your life, Ro. I'm going to go change out of these clothes before I get them all dirty."

I grab my overnight bag and head to one of Rosalie's spare bedrooms. I change into a ratty old Harvard t-shirt, some cutoff sweatshorts, and slip my feet into my cozy knit and Sherpa slippers. My feet rejoice in warm and soft embrace they receive from my slippers. I half debate taking off my makeup, but decide against it since I plan on giving my face a good scrubbing later. I don't want to piss Rosalie off anymore by taking the time to properly wash my face off. I pull my long, chestnut brown hair into a messy ponytail as I emerge back into the kitchen just as Rosalie checks on the status of some baked deliciousness in one of her ovens.

"Bree Tanner—you know, the girl in 412?—well she started to complain of pains in her abdomen. I thought she was having a complication from the surgery I performed on her earlier that day." I grabbed a ball of dough for apple pies and start rolling it out across from her.

"Why didn't you text me that you were going to be late? I would have understood," Rosalie asks, laying the lattice of crust over a freshly prepped apple pie. My mouth salivates, knowing that within the next 12 hours, I will be enjoying that pie. If Rosalie ever quits the medical field and opens up a café, I will totally be the one person that comes in everyday demanding a slice of her awesome apple pie.

"I had meant to, but she just… Broke down. Turns out that her folks in Wisconsin were having trouble making the trip up to see her and may not be able to make it til Friday."

"Oh that is rough. Poor kid. She's been on the floor for a number of weeks, right?"

"Yeah. I may be able to discharge her next week if her CT scans come up clear."

Bree Tanner, a 17 year old that has been in and out of hospitals since she was 12, is one of my lifers, a patient that I will more than likely help throughout her life. She was diagnosed with a rare blood disorder that prompted her to get the bone marrow transplant she received earlier.

"Okay so then why didn't you call me on your way over?" Rosalie pops her pie into the oven and pulls out a pumpkin pie.

Pumpkin and apple pies? Good gracious. I hope Mrs. Cullen doesn't plan on cooking a ton of food, as I plan on having at least a slice of pumpkin and apple pie. I am not sure if Mrs. Cullen is one of those mothers that freak out if their kids and guests don't eat a truckton of her food.

"How much are we going to be making?" I ask, just noticing the number of already made pies and cakes sitting around the kitchen.

"I'm not quite sure what Em's family likes and how many people will be there. I've never met his siblings, even though we've been engaged for a year now. Do you think I overdid it? And why the fuck did you change the topic! Why were you late?"

I grow still, feeling hot tears pinprick my eyes. I guess I can't avoid the situation any further. But the thing is, I don't know if I'm more upset over the fact that I got pulled over by Officer Hottie, or if Officer Hottie got to see my unmentionables. I _really_ wish that he would get to see my unmentionables on my body in the confines of my bedroom rather than on the asphalt of some street. did that come from?

Rosalie notices my stillness and looks at my face. By now, I'm surely a hot mess with my red face, unshed tears, and still only half of my makeup done.

"Ohmygosh! What happened?" She exclaims, almost dropping the pie en route to a cooling rack on the counter.

I take a deep gulp of air before I lost my shit with a knife in hand. "I was… Pulled over for speeding," I mutter.

"You did WHAT? You…Can't speed!" Rosalie chuckles.

"Shut up, Ro, and stop bashing my truck. It can't help that it struggles at highway speeds!" I throw back, tossing a ball of leftover dough at her.

Rosalie laughs, ducking the ball of dough. "Where were you speeding? Rush's parking lot?"

Rosalie's referring to our notoriously awful security guards at Rush University Medical Center, our place of employment. It seems that the guards are always griping at us doctors that we're going too fast around the employee parking lot. We try to placate them with a monthly donation of doughnuts, but they don't seem to appreciate them as much as we had hoped.

"No… Congress. But practically the parking lot. I didn't even go far. I was too damn busy putting on my makeup so I could look semi-presentable before I came over instead of looking like death on 2 hours of sleep."

Rosalie cackles. "All the makeup in the world wouldn't solve that problem!"

I stick my tongue out at her. Even though Rosalie's been slaving away in her kitchen for the past few hours baking and creating her delicious desserts of awesomesauce, she still looked perfect in her purple Juicy sweats, a gray and black tanktop, and those hideous pink boots that she got from Emmett last Christmas only wears around the house. Thank God.

"Yeah. And those boots are still ugly. Build-A-Bear Workshop called and they want their featured teddy bears back and off your feet," I smirk. Rosalie loathes frou-frou tokens of sentiment from lovers and boyfriends alike—especially teddy bears.

"Fuck you, Swan… With all the love and adoration in the world," Rosalie teases back.

I blush… _Hard_. Because the only f-king I can think of is with Officer Hottie, and all I can think is how his sexy hands would look if they were all over my naked body.

"Damn girl. You need to get over your hatred for the f-bomb. It's… Wait a minute, you're blushing HARDER. Fuck… Fucking!" Rosalie bursts, trying to see if either of those words will make me blush even brighter, if it were at all possible.

When she says f-king, my imagination goes crazy. In my fantasy, he moves his sex-hot hands from over my body to rubbing his fingers within the wetness that is now growing between my legs.

"HA!" Rosalie crows. "Who are you thinking about? Wait, let me put this last pie in the oven and we can veg on the couch while they bake."

Rosalie quickly finishes the last two pies that we were working on and shoves them in the oven, not even testing the temperature to see if the oven was heating evenly like she always does. We wash up, ignoring the mess of flour, unused dough and implements of pie creation on the counter, before we move into her living room to plop down on her mocha brown sofa.

"I think I failed to mention how freaking hot the police officer was," I mutter, pulling a cashmere throw over my bare legs. Somehow I hope that this throw will protect me from the inquisition that Rosalie will now put me through.

"Uhm… Yeah! Did you get his name?" Rosalie asks. I lower my head and absently play with a pulled string on the throw. "OHMYGOD! He wears a fucking name badge! Your ovaries were so hyperactive that you couldn't take your mind off fucking him to read his badge?"

"Actually, I was embarrassed as hell," I admit. I know that the outcome of retelling this part of the story will get me teased relentlessly for the next month and a half.

"Because you got pulled over by Officer Fuckhot?"

"Er, well originally yeah… But I sort-of, accidently, and unintentionally dumped my bag on the ground," I say, slowly.

"Okay so you had a few tampons and condoms, so what?" Wait what? I'm supposed to be carrying condoms? I thought that job was regulated to men?

"Uh… I might've had my bra in it too…"

"No. Fucking. Way," Rosalie says in shock. "Please tell me he saw it. And _please_ tell me you picked out a decent bra to flash at the cop."

"It was actually the one you gave me for my birthday… The sheer purple one?"

When this information dawns on Rosalie, she cackles. In fact, she starts to laugh so hard that she ends up choking. On what? I hope it was her g-damn tongue for all I care.

"That's…So rich!" Rosalie says, breathlessly. "At least you weren't planning on wearing a maternity bra or something today."

"Shut up, Ro. I do not wear maternity bras. I just prefer full coverage! I can't help that my rack cannot be supported by sheer swatches of material," I boast. Even though I have no ass to speak of, and I'm average height—unlike Amazoness Rosalie Hale—I have _natural _boobs that would put many porn stars to shame. Not that… I would know what porn stars look like…

"So then what? Did you notice if he had a boner?"

"Ew Ro. Off of a bra? No, I didn't notice. But I know he was trying to play all cool about it because he picked up all my _other_ shit off the ground and deliberately avoided my bra."

Rosalie bursts out in laughter and tears. "Oh. My. God. That's epic awesome. Tell me what he looks like…"

And we spend the rest of the evening talking about how freakishly beautiful Officer Hottie was, dissect the whole event, eating Rosalie's "fuckaweseome" (her words, not mine) pie, and eventually our apprehension about spending the holidays with the Cullens.

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><p><strong>AN**: So who wants fuckawesome apple pie? I've put a copy of my apple pie recipe on my blog, citrus-twist[at]blogspot[dot]com, as well as a picture of Bella and Rosalie's outfits in this chapter.

Reviews means sneek peeks for the next chapter! (which I am currently working on right now)


	3. 1010

**A/N**: Holy crow my inbox assploded. Thanks to all who have added MV to their alerts and provided a review. Reviews totally help writers direct their writing. Plus, you get goodies sent to your PM inbox. ;)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns _Twilight_ and the characters within. Blah blah blah. You get it.

Music: AC/DC – "Highway to Hell"

Debussy – "Clair de Lune" (had to put it somewhere ;) )

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><p>Chapter 3: 10-10<p>

We were running late. How the hell were we running late if we couldn't use the excuse of sleeping in? But somehow, we were late. Lateness seems to be the story of my life.

By the time we loaded up Rosalie's BMW with her pies, cakes, breads and enough carbs to put anyone into a food coma, it was already past 9. We were supposed to be at the Cullen's house in Lake Bluff at 9. But we still had the 35-mile drive and traffic is going to be a bitch.

"Fucking Chicagoland traffic," Rosalie swears after sitting in traffic for an hour. "Why are there so many fucking drivers out on Thanksgiving morning?"

I wince each time Rosalie uses the f-bomb. Instead of answering, I try to rub a crease of my cream trousers.

"Oh fucking grow up, Bella. You're 27-years-old and still a prude," Rosalie chastises. "How the hell did you manage to hear my sailor mouth all these years?"

"I generally tend to go into my happy place when bad shit goes down," I reply, almost stuttering on the word "shit". Jeez. I need to stop thinking like a good Catholic school girl and just grow the…feck… up.

Rosalie merges over to the left lane, almost sideswiping a black Mercedes with black-out windows. I react by taking a deep intake of air and hold onto the handle on the door for my dear life.

"FUCK!" Rosalie says, hitting her open hand on her steering wheel. "We'll never get there! And Esme will be totes pissed at me."

"We'll get there, Ro. Call Em and tell him we'll be late," I suggest, still having a death grip on the Oh-Shit! handle. "I mean, he's coming up from Chicago too, right? So he'll understand that we have monster traffic to have to go through."

"Gah. Whatever," Rosalie frowns.

It was already noon by the time we rolled up to the Cullen's massive estate in Lake Bluff. Rosalie is a hot mess—mentally that is. She, like me, is neurotic about arriving to places on time and is normally very good about being prompt. We are, after all, responsible for getting to our employment with haste. Lives are at stake.

Well, right now, _our_ lives are at stake. Neither one of us is sure if Mrs. Cullen is one of those sticklers for timeliness. With our luck, she probably is and has deemed Emmett Cullen's marriage to Rosalie to be a failure just because she cannot arrive to Thanksgiving dinner on time.

"Shit fuck wank," Rosalie mutters, grabbing a sack of goodies from the backseat. "Forget the rest. We can have the boys come out and get the lot."

We rush up the few steps to the front door of Chez Cullen. I look over Rosalie's outfit of grey trousers, eggplant silk shirt, black lace pumps, and a crystal cuff. Her hair is wavy and free—something that is somewhat of a luxury for us surgeons who have to constantly keep it up and out of our way for surgery.

"How do I look?" I ask before she pushes in the doorbell button.

"Fucktabulous. If I wasn't straight and engaged, I would do you right now," Rosalie replies after giving me a quick glance-over.

"Really?" I squeak, looking over my brown sleeveless shirt, cream trousers and gold flats. I, unlike Rose, had pulled my long hair into low ponytail on the side, and left the ends of it over my left shoulder. Old habits die hard.

Rose didn't get a chance to respond as the door opened with a very deep holler. I look up at the doorway and see a hulking mass of muscle clad in a grey knit sweater and charcoal slacks.

_Emmett cleans up pretty well, I must say_. I think to myself. I only see Emmett in his usual uniform of t-shirts and track pants—typical attire for CEOs of a major chain of fitness gyms. In fact, it was at one of his gyms where Rosalie met Emmett.

"My Rose!"

"Emmy!" Rose gushes with a smile. She hops up and jumps onto Emmett's strong waist and starts to passionately kiss him.

Figured that they needed a moment alone after being apart for a week, I squeeze beside them and walk into the Cullen's opulent foyer. Since Emmett and Rosalie were having a full out make-out session in the open doorway, the cold air was hitting my back, causing me to have goose bumps.

"Whoa…" I say in awe, dropping Rosalie's bag. I slowly spin around, taking in the full view of the entryway. Somewhere in the background, I can hear Debussy playing softly. The Cullen's foyer is awesome in size, but not pretentiously so. To my right stands a

"Holy Jesus in a popsicle stand…"

"Pretty crazy, huh?" Someone asks, disturbing the quietness.

"WAAAA!" I shriek, toeing the corner of the bag on the floor. I lose my balance and fall backwards. I braced for pain, squeezing my eyes shut. Instead of hitting cold marble, I feel…Warmth and strong arms wrapped around my waist.

I look up to my savior. And meet a pair of familiar green eyes. I look at the rest of his face and recognise the straight nose, high cheekbones, slightly parted full lips, and…A shock of titian bronze hair. Gorgeous. To me, time stops. My senses are heightened to vampire-like acuity. I can even taste the warm air that is shared between his body and mine—lust and desire.

I know God himself had created this man in His image, but did He have to make this man so damn _sexy_? The sisters at my Catholic school would be astonished at the carnal thoughts that ran through my mind—sex, sex hands, full kissable lips, sex… Did I forget to mention how much I would love to rip off his clothes and just do him right there, right now?

I can feel his strong bicep under my hand, where I had unconsciously placed it when he caught me. Whatever sheathing his arm feels soft, like jersey but coarser. But I can feel the warmth that radiates from his body. His smell, a mix of bayberries and an unidentified yet pleasant smell, fills my nose. Maybe his scent is what I'm think I'm tasting (since vampires don't exist, right?). Whatever that other smell is, it should be bottled up and called "Lust".

_Officer Hottie?_

"Uh… Well technically it's Lieutenant Masen," he replies. Did I actually call him Officer Hottie out loud?

Damn my mental filter and my mouth being tied together. I really should work on being more aware of what I say around this guy since I seem to be a fan of just blurting out whatever the hell I please.

"What? Uh….." I notice that I am not just openly staring at him, but I'm also still cradled in his arms. My left leg was bent, but my right managed to tangle between Officer Hottie—_Edward's_—thighs. This intimate position allowed me to feel a hard pokey _thing_ on my right thigh—that somehow was growing harder and longer as time passed by.

I am so proud of myself when I don't mention how much I want to ride his boner. Instead, I think of saying something witty and flirty.

"I guess you can let me go, if you'd like."

_Wait, what? NO! What is wrong with you mouth? Mental slut wants to keep feeling his raging hard-on press against her thigh!_

Lt. Masen gently pulls me up to a standing position, but still keeps his hands firmly wrapped around my waist. I take this as a sign that he's not repulsed or embarrassed of me, so I keep my hand on his arm. Standing infront of him, I notice a few things. The softness of his arm is due to the dark grey and black striped Henley shirt that accentuates his long, lean torso. He is not built like Emmett, but he does have well defined shoulders and arms. His legs—God those legs—are long, and clad in gray cords. I _do not_ look down at his crotch, even though I desperately want to affirm my earlier suspicions.

Based off my average-ish (okay, shut up… I know this on the smaller side but medically I am average….ish) stature of 5'5", he must be at least 6'2". Even standing, the top of my head barely reaches to his chin. I can only guesstimate this because I can see his Adam's apple when he swallows. His jaw is still has a 5 o'clock shadow. I wonder if the man _ever_ shaves, or if he just gets scruffy faster.

"Oh. You've met my bro, Edward," Emmett says, coming up behind me.

I step back from Officer Hottie—_Edward_—and quickly drop my hand to my side as if it were on fire. If I were to spontaneously combust, now would be a great time for this to happen. Especially since the tingly feeling I felt when we were touching was still coursing through my body.

"Not officially, no," Edward says with that adorable crooked smile. "But we have run to each other before."

Rosalie looks behind Emmett to me, to Edward, and back to me with a confused look on her face. I bet she is thinking, "if Bella ever met this angel/god, why did she not tell me?". I know when she realises the humour in this when her eyes light up and take on a more fiendish look to them. She gives me a wink. Now Rosalie is in on the good fun.

"Do I smell pumpkin bread? And pie?" Emmett asks, sniffing the air. He turns to Rosalie, who now is holding up her bag of goodies. Emmett takes her bag and starts to peer inside of it, taking deep breaths of pumpkin and apple smells.

"I have both, as well as apple pie. I wasn't sure what you all liked," Rosalie blushed.

"God woman," Emmett moans. "I cannot wait to marry you!"

Rosalie giggles and holds onto Emmett's free hand. "I can't either, babe."

I unconsciously groan softly in disgust. I look to my right where Edward is standing, hoping that he didn't hear me. But I know he has by his crooked smile and his sideways glance at me.

Can I please just take a picture of that smile and use it for my visual in my next self-love session?

"I know how you feel, Isabella," Edward says softly.

"Bella," I quickly correct, mentally kicking myself on how blunt I sound.

"Bella. Right. Sorry. I was just trying to impress you by going off my memory," Edward gives me a slow wink.

My face flushes and I loudly clear my throat, hoping to get Rosalie's attention. That didn't work, so instead I go for loud and brash to break up the lovey-dovey session.

"Where shall we put these bags of awesomeness?" I ask when Rosalie looks at me.

"Oh right! Em, take Bella's bag and let's put all this food somewhere," Rosalie says, a little too loudly. I know what's going on in that twisted little head of hers, but I am determined not to embarrass myself too badly. I can still feel pleasant shocks of energy emitting from Edward's body to mine that rocks me to my very core. Feeling myself getting "perky", I wrap my arms across my chest, hoping that my rock-hard nipples won't cut through my shirt.

Emmett bends down and picks up my forgotten bag and shows Rosalie the way to the kitchen. Within seconds, Edward and I are left in the foyer… Alone. With frisson that is so thick and electric, we could've provided enough energy to power the whole town of Lake Bluff—and probably Chicagoland in general.

Fuck.

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><p><strong>AN**: Bahaha. Talk about cockblock.

I've posted a crapton of images and stuff that accompany this story on my blog—citrus-twist[dot]blogspot[dot]com. BTW: I will be travelling to the great city of New York today (Saturday) and shan't be back for a few days. This means the publishing of Chapter 4 will be a few days. Sorry!

Also: I know American Thanksgiving is different from other countries' holiday, but still: what is everyone's favourite dessert for the holidays?

Reviews = love.


	4. Like Someone in Love

**A/N**: Having a lurvely time in the Great Apple. Sorry for those who reviewed chapter 3. I wasn't able to send out a snippet of this chapter prior to publishing. I didn't have internet for a while which was epic failage for me (me without internet = bad news).

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns _Twilight_ and the characters within. But this twisted plot owns me.

Music: Handel - "Water Music" (appropriate dinner music, eh?)  
>Red Hot Chili Peppers – "Snow (Hey Oh)"<br>Björk – "Like Someone in Love" (inspired this chapter)

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><p>Chapter 4: Like Someone in Love<p>

"This isn't awkward at all…" I chuckle, feeling my cheeks flame up.

"Nope. Not at all," he replies, shoving his hands into his pants pocket. "Did you know…?"

"Know what?" I ask in confusion.

"Know… That I'd be here?" He clarifies for me, pulling one hand out to run through his hair.

Oh my God. Is that sex hair? I've heard that it exists, but never seen in it person. My last ex, Jacob, had close-cropped hair so there wasn't much variation between pre-sex and post-sex hair.

Before I could answer, I could hear footsteps coming down from the stairs next to us.

"Edward!"

We both turn to look up the stairs to see a tiny black haired woman being escorted down the stairs with a tall blond man. I immediately recognise the black hair woman as Mary Alice Brandon, a rising fashion designer for a major fashion brand—a woman who designed the very pants that I am currently wearing. I assume by the loving glance the blond man gives down to her that he is her husband, but I cannot recall his name because I look further up the stairs and see another woman.

This woman looks and exudes the air of model that stepped off some hoity-toity fashion magazine. Her long strawberry blonde curls are pulled back, but the ends softly brush her milky-white shoulders. She is wearing a grey cowl dress that shows off her figure _too well_. She gives a small smile that shows off her brilliant white teeth. My stomach bottoms out when I notice the smile is for Edward.

"Alice, Jasper… Tanya," Edward says smoothly, stepping closer to the stairwell. "I was wondering if you'd ever come back down."

Alice giggled, waving a small hand at Edward. "Oh whatever. You know I had to show Tanya some of the sample pieces I brought. But please, introduce us—especially since I _adore_ how she matched my pants to that blouse."

Edward glances at me, clearing his throat.

"Ladies, Jasper. This is Bella Swan. Bella, this is my twin sister Alice, her husband Jasper Hale and Tanya McKinley," Edward says.

By the time Edward introduces me to Tanya, she has made her way down the stairs and to Edward. Now that she is on the same level as me, I am astonished at how tall Tanya is. She must be at least the same height as Edward without her 6" heels, but she pulls off her height very well by standing regally next to Edward—not even phased by the fact she may very well tower over him.

"Escort me to dinner, Edward?" she asks. I am surprised, thinking that her voice would be that high-pitched sound that I assumed that all models had. Instead, her voice is low and husky.

Shit. I have to compete with that?

The tips of Edward's ears turn bright red. For what reason, I am not sure. But nonetheless, he extends his arm to Tanya. Her manicured hand snaked through and rested on Edward's forearm.

"May I escort you, m'lady?" a deep Southern-accented voice asks.

I look up and see that Jasper has extended his free arm to me. I know what he's doing—he's just being polite. But I cannot help feel like a third-wheel. Embarrassment almost overwhelms me to the point where I almost turn on my heel and bolt out the door. But I do not want to offend my host and hostess without at least letting them know of my leave.

"Why thank you, good sir," I say in a false Southern Belle accent and let Jasper and Alice escort me to dinner.

/ / / / M V \ \ \ \

God hates me. Or some higher being definitely hates me. Because instead of being seated far, far away from Edward, I found my seating card right between Edward and Dr. Cullen—Officer Hottie and my boss.

Damn etiquette. And what the hell is wrong with me? I just met the guy! Why are my ovaries doing their traitorous mating call out to Edward's… Junk?

It wouldn't be so bad if Tanya wasn't seated directly across from him. If I felt like a third wheel with Jasper and Alice, I feel even worse with Edward and Tanya. Although Tanya was totally playing up their couple-hood, Edward seemed really relaxed and at times somewhat terse with her. I assumed that this was just how he was, so the empty feeling inside my stomach didn't subside. I picked at my dinner, something that Esme noticed repeatedly.

"Dear, is the food to your liking?" Esme asked. She had previously asked a different variation of the same question a few minutes ago. I can only guess that my half-hearted attempt to respond with a cheerful reply was obviously caught on.

"No Esme," I say honestly. What bites of food I actually ate was very tasty and cooked to perfection. "It's wonderful. I just can't help but think about work. I'm sorry."

"I hear you're a doctor at Carlisle's hospital?" Alice asks. "How's that working out for you?"

I give a very unladylike snort. "That's a loaded question, Alice." I hope that my teasing tone is recognised by all—especially Carlisle.

The table gives a polite laugh. Whew. Joking is apparently acceptable and welcomed at this table.

"Without giving too much information out," Carlisle starts, winking at me. "Bella is a great employee and an exceptionally talented surgeon. I couldn't ask for a better person to be in my hospital."

"Hey! You used that same line with me," Rosalie says sarcastically. Everyone laughs.

"Well, you both are irreplaceable members of my staff," Carlisle says with a chuckle.

"Oh good. I was worried that I should start sending out my resume out to other hospitals," Rosalie smirks.

"No way, babe!" Emmett cries out. "Dad wouldn't toss you out—at least, not without warning."

The rest of dinner follows this jovial tone into dessert. Except under my joking, I feel battered. Even though I didn't talk to Edward directly at all during dinner, I battered and worn out. The tension of sitting next to Edward and not talk to him directly was putting strain on my mental health—something that even Rosalie's fuckawesome pie won't help.

After dinner, Alice had me come up to her "studio" and try on some of the outfits she brought. So we both left the rest of the party and went up to Alice's old bedroom and try on some of the new designs she's been working on. Several she encouraged me to take home—accessories and all.

"But I can't, Alice!" I exclaim, handing back one dress she conned me into trying on. "Aren't these works in progress?"

"Yeah, but I have multiples of these at my studio. I only brought these in hopes that I could get some free publicity with Tanya," Alice says, pushing the dress back to me. "Besides… And don't tell anyone I said this, but you look totes better in this than she did."

My bruised ego mends a tiny bit.

"Really?" I ask in disbelief.

"Yeah really. She may be tall and all that shit, but she doesn't have _any_curves whatsoever. And I refuse to design for stick people."

"Thanks, Alice. But small problem," I say, chewing on my bottom lip. Where the hell am I going to store all this stuff? And more importantly, where can I wear it? Is there some sort of Ball in Chicago that I can attend so I can wear one of Alice's ball gowns?

"What's that?"

"I can't wear some of this stuff. I mean, I can do the skirts and blouses, but not the longer dresses."

Alice gives me a devious smile. "Tell you what. You keep those and we can find opportunities for you to wear some of it. In fact, I have loads of clothes I can courier to your place if you give me your address."

"Uhh… Okay?" I agree, even though I know that there will be no way I'll ever be able to repay her for her kindness aside from being a great friend. The pants I wore earlier were half a week's worth of pay.

"YAY! I can even pick out your work outfit for this week," Alice yelps happily, giving me a great big hug. "I knew we were going to be great friends!"

"Thank you so much for dinner, Esme," I say, shaking Esme's hand before I leave. "I really appreciate letting me join your family for Thanksgiving."

Esme pulls me to a gentle hug. "You're welcome, my dear. You come by anytime. I fully expect you to be here for Christmas you don't already have plans."

I laugh, giving her another hug. "And please thank Alice for the clothes. I seem to have missed her leaving."

Esme gives me a half-smile that leads me to believe that I didn't miss Alice since she hadn't already left. "I will, Bella. Don't forget your leftovers!"

Before I was allowed to leave, Esme told me that I had to take leftovers home like the rest of her children. "It's tradition," she had said. "All the kids take home leftovers."

Secretly, I'm thankful that she was so generous on the portions as I am due at the hospital in less than 12 hours and I have not even though about my empty fridge and the inability to purchase groceries this late on the holiday. Cafeteria food was so blah after a while. This way, not only will have tasty home cooked meals for a while, but looking forward to my meals will make my upcoming 48-hour shift so much easier to finish. The food she cooked was amazing. I wonder if she'll let me have her recipe for her sage and apple dressing.

I run outside to Rosalie's car which is now covered in at least 3 inches of snow. Thankfully her BMW has remote start, so I am able to warm the car up without opening the door and avoid getting snow on her car seat. Cold, wet snow on my bum for the next 3 hours would be uncomfortable.

I take one gloved mitten and start wiping off snow on the car's windshield when I hear someone run up behind me. I turn to see Edward coming up behind me, looking quite fetching in his black wool peacoat and green knitted cap. I try to ignore the fact that his cap almost matches the colour of his eyes, but fail miserable.

"Let me help you," Edward states. He holds out an extendable window scraper in one hand.

"Ah… It's okay. I really don't mind," I stammer. I really want him to go inside so I don't have to say goodbye to him.

"But you'll get wet and cold if you keep at it," Edward insists. He starts to use his fancy scraper on the back window. "You should go in the car while I do this."

"No. Seriously, I can do this."

"If you keep using your hands, you're going to get cold and wet. And you will need your reflexes at its best to drive through this shit," Edward reasons.

Well shit, yeah. But who cares? I wanted a clean break, which is why I avoided saying my farewells to him inside. Besides, I'm sure he was making out with Tanya in some dark corner while the rest of the gang watched football—which explains why he wasn't around when I made my announcement of leaving.

"It would be ungentlemanly for me to do otherwise, Bella," Edward says in a teasing voice.

This is my breaking point. I could feel the emptiness of my stomach come back, with a deep ache in my chest.

"And it would be ungentlemanly for you to leave your _girlfriend_ inside," I snap back.

"What…Girlfriend? Who?" Edward replies with wide eyes.

"Tanya," I snarl back, grabbing the scraper from his hands. He stands still, staring at me first with disbelief and then with a pained expression.

"You thought Tanya and I were dating," Edward says slowly.

"Well yeah. Tanya made that clear during dinner," I said, avoiding looking at him. I continue to clean the car off—which is now mostly done.

"Tanya and I aren't dating," Edward says, stilling my hands. "Is this why you didn't talk to me at all tonight?"

This causes me to look up at him. Gone is the pained expression and one of…relief? I give him a tiny nod.

"Tanya is a member of one of my mother's committees and daughter of her best friend. We've practically grown up with each other. I'm sure my mother would have been ecstatic if we were dating. But she hadn't met you yet…"

Edward takes my hand and pulls me closer to him. Standing this close to him, I can smell Edward's unique scent and a bit of cinnamon from Rosalie's pies. I can tell that his lower lip is fuller than the top and probably tastes delicious. My mind swirls with lust. I can tell that he's about to kiss me when he slowly lowers his head to me.

_Yes yes yes! _My inner slut screams.

But my inner conscious says_ Run_.

So I frantically step back from Edward. Before he realises what I'm about to do, I shout "I'm sorry!" as I'm climbing into Rosalie's BMW and quickly turn in the Cullen driveway.

Even though I know it'll hurt, I still glance up to the rearview mirror to see him growing smaller and smaller as I drive away. His hands are shoved into his pockets but he's still looking at the car as I drive away. Except his expression haunts me long after I arrive to the hospital.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Do you think Edward and Bella would have made out in the snow? And I wonder why Jasper and Alice disappeared during football. More importantly—where the hell was Edward and Tanya?

Anyone want a chapter in EPOV? If I get enough "ayes", I might add one either as part of this story or as an extra. It's all up to you guys!

Also: I am in the process of writing another story. Except, no beta still! Anyone want to beta this and possible future stories? I'll appreciate you forever and ever, with a cherry on top!


	5. Breathe In Breathe Out

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns _Twilight_ and the characters within. But the concept of this story is all part of my twisted mind.

Music: "Breathe In Breathe Out" by Mat Kearney (a HUGE inspiration for this chapter… I actually started to write when it came up on my Spotify account and I just wrote with the lyrics. I've included where I started the song if you wanted it to be in the background while reading this. If there is one song that you go to my blog for, this is it!)

"Keep Breathing" by Ingrid Michaelson (a freaking brilliant singer/songwriter-another awesome song you should check out on my blog)

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><p>Chapter 5: Breathe In Breathe Out<p>

One of the most painful things I have ever experienced is not getting undisturbed sleep for 3 days. The first 24 hours is a breeze. You think you can do anything. You feel maniac, but controlled.

The next 48 hours is like running against a brick wall… Repeatedly. And not stopping. You run full force into this wall to bounce off, a little more battered and bruised than before, but you take a few steps back to ram into the wall.

But thankfully, this is something you don't experience for long. Eventually interns become residents, and residents become attending physicians. When you're a resident with your own interns, you can't help but feel sorry for them. You have to tell yourself that being a hard ass makes you the best mentor and teacher for your interns. Being a hardass means that you're pushing these fledging physicians to be the best doctors possible. You don't want quitters. You want fighters.

For me, I want to be a quitter. Even though I'm not an intern. Instead, I'm one small step up: being one of the on-call physicians. This is like the seventh level of hell for physicians, but a needed necessity for any reputable hospital to function. It involves having staff respond to emergencies promptly so we have a limited number of fatalities, but it also includes hellish hours.

The first 24 hours were long and exhausting. I had two major surgeries back to back, with hardly any break in between. I managed to get 4 hours of sleep before I was paged by one of my interns with a trauma case that had just come in. Unfortunately, there was not much we could do aside from keep the patient comfortable and let them go…

Then Bree Tanner, my lifer patient, passed on during the middle of night. It was sudden, which made me believe that there might have some neural complications from either her surgery or her disorder. Thankfully she went without pain, but the event was a sad sight to see. Her parents surrounded her bed as she slowly slipped into a coma, holding her hand and whispering words of love in her ear. She slept with a small smile in her face that stayed even after I was instructed by her parents to pull her life support.

All I can do is keep breathing. (Thanks Ingrid!)

I go to the residents' locker room to change out of my dingy scrubs into a pair of fresh ones. Sometimes fresh scrubs make you feel better. I don't. Instead, I feel like I've been at the hospital for my full 48 hours rather than only 24. And I still have that ache in my heart. I really want to go into a dark room and cry. Even though it may not make me feel better, it may help release some of the pressure I have on my chest.

I look at my pager and Blackberry to see how my batteries are doing. Seeing that my Blackberry is little low, I grab my charger from my red tote bag (thank you Alice for not giving me teeny-tiny ass purses that will have _not_be practical) and head to an on-call room to charge my Blackberry and my internal battery. As I'm scrolling through my missed calls and texts, I run right into a hard surface. Except I know I didn't walk into a wall (which I've done) as I hear a soft "oomph!" from the surface.

And fall right on my ass. _That's it! I've had it!_

My phone scatters under one of the linen carts lining the hallway. I look up, fully prepared to chew out the little shit that got in my way.

And lo and behold, it's Edward Masen in his uniform, staring wide eyed down at me. His hand is extended out, as if he had attempted to catch me before I fell. Except he failed, obviously. He looks at my face, which probably now has a mixture of pissed off and a pained expression, and lowers his hand to me.

"Need a boost, Doc?" he asks.

I swat his hand away, even though I really want to grab a hold of his hand and not let go. Ever.

Edward is good natured, regardless. He gives me a chuckle and gets on his hands and knees to look for my Blackberry under the cart as I scramble up to my feet. I could've totally done that, especially since I'm a whole lot closer to the ground than he is. When his hat gets in the way of looking under the narrow opening of the linen cart, he takes it off and places it between him and where I stand.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I ask with little emotion. I don't even stutter on the word hell. Go me.

"I figured you were the smart one, Doc," Edward teases, looking up from the floor. "I thought it was obvious with my uniform that I'm here as Lt. Masen."

I then notice his uniform—which he looks exceptionally handsome in—and into the room that I am standing in front of. In the room lies a man in a day-glo orange jumpsuit, handcuffed to the bed. So he was doing babysitting duties.

I want to give him a snarky reply back to his comment, except the once dull ache in my chest has blossomed to a full out pain. I sniff loudly as tears begin to pour out of my eyes.

"Ah HA! Got the little fu—Bella!" Edward exclaims with my phone in hand. When he sees that I'm crying silent tears, he gracefully leaps to his feet in front of me.

"Are you okay? What can I do?" he asks frantically. He looks over my left shoulder and waves at someone. I don't even bother to understand what's going in my surroundings. He gently pushes me into a supply closet nearby and orders me to stay tight.

"You need me, Lt. Masen?" a male voice asks in the hallway.

"Seth, I need you to watch over the patient in room Trauma Room 4," Edward asks. "I'm going to go on my lunch. Radio me if anything happens."

"You got it, sir!" the voice, Seth, eagerly responds. "I won't leave the room at all, sir!"

Edward returns to the supply closet and grabs my hand. I duck my head to avoid getting strange looks from my co-workers and allow Edward to lead me into one of the darken stairwells.

(Cue Mat Kearney's "Breathe In Breathe Out")

"Bella?" he asks tenderly. I don't lift my head, but give him a sniff to know that I am listening. "Is there something I can do?"

I don't respond, letting the tears just fall. I feel so, _so_ tired. My whole body hurts from the lack of sleep and the stress of the events of the day. I want to sleep for the next bajillion hours with a bottle of Tylenol and a heating pad.

"I know I'm not Rose, but I can listen," Edward softly says. "I am a great listener…if you'll let me."

I look up at Edward, knowing what he's offering me. Instead of running away at the sight of my tears, he's accepting them in the best way he knows how. This huge, masculine police officer is letting me tell him why I'm crying instead of ignoring them.

Letting instinct guide me, I rush up to him and hug him tightly. I managed to snake one arm under one arm pit and on his upper back, and the other around his lean waist. I've moved from silent tears to full-out panic attack sobs. I know he's probably freaked out, but he wraps his long arms around me and just holds me close.

"T-t-tight…er," I shake out as I hyperventilate. "D-d-on't… Leggo."

"I won't, love," Edward softly says, so soft that I almost dream that I hear it.

Edward responds by holding me tighter and murmurs "breathe in…. breathe out" softly. I listen to his coaching and his heartbeat, and eventually manage my breathing. If I could manage to pull out my stethoscope from my pocket of my coat, I'm sure I would be able to hear that I've unconsciously matched my heartbeat to Edward's. Sometime during my panic attack, I looked up at Edward and focus on his green eyes.

I don't know how long he has held me, but he hasn't lessened the hold he has around me. When he sees that I'm recovering, his coaching stops and he continues to just hold me. It would feel nice, if the circumstances surrounding this embrace were a whole lot nicer.

Even in my panic state, I can feel his abs through his uniform against my torso and somehow, this comforts me. Or at least brings me back to reality. I feel his belt buckle pressing uncomfortably against my stomach. I was fortunate that in my hurry to grab him, I didn't knock into his gun belt around his waist that held his gun, cuffs and whatever else police officers carry. I realise that this intimate hold is probably not something he can normally do on duty as I'm within reach of his gun, but he's on break… So it doesn't count against him, right?

"Uhm… You can let go," I say, lowering my gaze to his chin. Before I break eye contact, I keep a mental image of how Edward is looking at me—without fear or disgust, but with… Love, I dare say?

He chuckles. "I would, but you're probably going to have to lower your legs."

I am confused. My legs? What does letting go have to do with my legs? I then realise that I somehow managed to wrap one of my legs around his so he is hold on me serves two purposes: calming me down and supporting my dead weight.

"OHMYGOD I'm so sorry!" I say, sliding off his body to my own feet. "I don't know how that happened."

"I'm not mad," he says in a flirty tone. "In fact, I was sort of enjoying myself… Minus the fact you were upset over something."

I back up until I can feel my feet hit one of the steps. I climb a few and sit down on the fourth or fifth step.

"I'm sorry… It's been a really rough day," I apologise with a shaky voice.

He sits down a step down from me, perhaps to give me space. He probably doesn't know what even though this stairwell is cavernous, he's _everywhere_. His presence fills up the whole area, but not in a stifling or claustrophobia way. It doesn't help the fact that he's so long and lean that him cramming his folded body on a step looks almost comical. His knees are practically up to his chest, but he doesn't complain or fidget.

"Want to tell me about it?" he suggests after a few moments of silence. He turns his upper body so he is looking up at me with a look of concern.

So instead of letting my mental filter block my ramblings, I pour them out… Starting about how I messed up dinner and how I felt bad about leaving him at his parents' house on Thanksgiving to the events that occurred during my shift without giving away too many personal details.

He nodded his head and even held onto my hand when I recounted what happened to Bree. I managed to keep my tears in check as I told him what happened. When I run out of steam, I glance at my watch.

"Oh here," Edward says, fishing my Blackberry out of his pants pocket. I feel regret when he lets go of my hand. Damn Blackberry. "You dropped this."

I hold out my hand and he places my phone in it. Wrapping my fingers around it, I can still feel his warmth in my phone. I flush, embarrassed at bumping into him and the fact that my phone was in his pocket. Envy.

"Sorry about earlier," I apologise. "I wasn't paying attention and I should have… You could've been a patient or even Carlisle!"

Edward laughs. I've never heard him give a full-on laugh, but it sounds amazing. It's unrestricted, but not annoyingly so. My heart warms up.

"Don't worry," he says when he's taken a breath. "I'm not easy to break. Besides, I was hoping I'd be able to run into you tonight."

"How did you know that I was here?"

Edward drops his gaze and the tips of his ears flush. "I sort've asked my Dad if you were scheduled to work tonight. He didn't exactly confirm it, but he did say, 'I can neither acknowledge nor deny that statement. But I'm more apt to deny it'."

"That's sneaking and a little abusive, don't you think?" I archly ask.

"Oh no, Doc. I was just looking out for the best interest of my watch."

"You mean the guy in TR 4? Jumpsuit guy?"

"Yeah, him. Seth and I brought him in for a minor scrape on his eyebrow. Normally I don't do it, but with all the snow that's out there, I'm one of the few that are able to make it here."

"It's that bad, huh?" I ask, oblivious to the events outside of the hospital.

"Something like 5 inches so far, and more coming. How are you going home?"

"Oh… Uh, well. Rosalie's supposed to be coming in soon and she'll probably want to have her car here. I'm off in 12 hours anyway. Might as well stick around and see if they need my help."

"No way. That's madness," he admonishes, shaking his head. "How about I come pick you up if I'm not still here? I have the cruiser and it has snow tires that manage well in the snow. Otherwise, I have an SUV that has all-wheel drive."

"I wouldn't want to inconvenience you, Edward."

"It really wouldn't be a problem. Rather you get home safely than end up back at this hospital—not as a doctor, but as patient."

I think about it carefully, debating whether or not I would be able to realistically manage another shift after this one—even if I do get 8-10 hours of sleep. Then again, after a day like today, sleeping in a real bed and showering in my own shower will be decadent and exactly what the doctor ordered. Deciding that it is probably not likely that I will be able to get rested sleep at the hospital or a shower in my 10 jet fancy shower, I agree.

"Alright. But only if you pinky promise me that it won't be a problem," I state, holding out my left pinky.

Edward looks down at my extended pinky and gives me a crooked smile.

"Pinky promise," he says, hooking his pink around mine.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: I know the theme of breathing seems a little redundant. But honestly, I've had days like this during my own long-ass shifts and all you can really do is keep breathing.

But aww! How cute is it for Edward to be pinky-promising Bella?

Next chapter will be in EPOV, as most of you (if not all of you) requested. Reviewers get the opportunity to read a bit of it before everyone else. ;)


	6. Cannot Stop Myself

**A/N**: Without further delay, here is the EPOV I promised y'all. ;) This chapter is going to be **WAY longer** than my other ones. Soz about that.

Huge props for ADADancer for letting me harass her about writing and stuff. This one is for you. 3

Also: I am still in need of a BETA. If you'd like to Beta for me (or even just pre-read my shit), let me know please!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns _Twilight_ and the characters within. This plot is one of my own sick fantasies. Handcuffs and Officer Edward? Hellooooo!

Music: "Discipline" by Nine Inch Nails

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><p>Chapter 6: Cannot Stop Myself<p>

Well my day certainly got a whole lot better with Bella allowing me to take her home after her shift is over. After she agreed to me taking her home, we got to talking more about things—mostly about Rosalie and Emmett since they were the only commonality between us. When Bella's pager went off, she stood up and stretched her arms, unintentionally showing off a bit of stomach flesh between the top of her scrub bottoms and the hem of her scrub shirt. I could see a light scar running from one side of her upper hip towards her belly button.

I didn't want to get caught, so I quickly advert my gaze before she could see me. It's bad enough to gawk, but I didn't want her to think I was some sort of dirty old man by leering at her pale flesh. My momma taught me better.

"I better get going. That's the pit calling for me," Bella explains after doing her mini-stretching session. She seemed not to notice my staring earlier to my delight.

"Yeah, I need to take care of the psycho in #4," I say, standing up.

"I guess I'll see you later then?" Bella asks.

"Most definitely. Give me your phone and I can program my cellphone number in it," I say, holding out my hand for her Blackberry. "That way you can call me if you're delayed or whatever."

Bella hands me her Blackberry just as my radio goes off. The sound is loud and filled with static, echoing off the walls of the stairwell. After I quickly program my number in, I dial it so I can have her number show up on my missed calls list. I could feel the quick pulse of vibration on my hip pocket where my phone is holstered before it beeps once, indicating that I have missed a call.

"I went ahead and called my phone so I can add your number later," I explain.

"Thanks Edward. I really do appreciate it," Bella says as she walks out the stairwell.

I had a feeling that she didn't necessarily mean trading numbers, either.

/ / / / M V \ \ \ \

After getting the discharge approval from the doctor about my ward, I returned as quickly as I could to the station to let my super know I'm about to head out. By now, I'm already 2 hours over my original time off, and probably late on picking Bella up. Before I was able to, my phone beeps. I've been avoiding texts from Tanya all day, and I'm wondering if she's still trying to repent for the stunt she did at Thanksgiving. Fucking woman just cannot get a clue.

I wearily pull it out of my holster and see I got a new message from an unfamiliar 206 area code number.

**To: Edward Masen**  
><strong>From: 206-234-7777<strong>  
><strong>Message: E~ Are you still going to pick me up after my shift? ~B<strong>

Oh shit! I forgot to tell Bella that I was going to be late. I quickly hammer out a response and save Bella's number in my phonebook.

**To: Bella Swan**  
><strong>From: Edward Masen<strong>  
><strong>Message: B – Sorry I'm late picking you up. Will be there in 30. (E)<strong>

After the message is sent, I knock on my supe's door.

"Chief?" I ask, opening his door a crack.

"Lt. Masen! Come in, come in!" Chief Clearwater greets loudly, waving me in.

I poke my head in the doorway and see him on the phone. I patiently wait for him to finish his call by sitting at one of the chairs closest to his doorway. I'm a real hurry now to leave and hoping that this phone call will end soon. In the meantime, my phone beeps again.

**To: Edward Masen**  
><strong>From: Bella Swan<strong>  
><strong>Message: No hurries. About to go into surgery for an appy. Will be at least another hour.<strong>

What the fuck is an appy? Surgery…Appy. Appendix? Maybe I'll ask her later, but I don't want to sound like a n00b. Instead, I pretend I totally understand what she just says and respond.

**To: Bella Swan**  
><strong>From: Edward Masen<strong>  
><strong>Message: Sounds good. Meet you in the cafeteria<strong>.

"Edward, what can I do for you?" Chief asks, putting the handset of his phone into the cradle.

I slip my phone back into its holster. "Chief, I wanted to let you know I'm going off clock before I headed out."

"Oh that's fine, boy. Thanks for letting me know. If you want, take the next two days off to make up for today. I heard that we might have a blizzard come in."

"Sir, if you need me to, I can stay." _Please say no. Please say no! _Just as I'm praying quietly, my phone beeps again. I resist pulling my phone out in front of the Chief.

"Nah. We'll be fine. I've already told Seth, Sam and Quil that the men on staff will need to stay in the event we do have the blizzard come through. But I'd like for you to be prepared in the event you get called from home. Now get out of my office and go meet up with that girl you keep texting."

_Whew._ I try not to let the relief show on my face.

"Thank you, sir. Will do," I say, quickly rising from the chair and leaving the Chief's office.

I look at my phone when I'm out of the Chief's office.

**To: Edward Masen**  
><strong>From: Bella Swan<strong>  
><strong>Message: Will text when I'm about to head down. Park on Wood, if you can.<strong>

As I now have a little time to kill, I go ahead and shower quickly in the locker room. While I am at it, I also shave before pulling on my jeans, flannel button down shirt, and my snow boots. After letting my crew know that I am heading out, I walk out of the station to my black Subaru WRX STI hatchback. I open up the trunk, throw my duffel bag in, and lock my gun and ammo in my hidden gun safe within the bed of the trunk.

Since I arrived back at the station, the snow began to fall heavier and faster. Thankfully I had the foresight to ask about Bella's plans home as getting a cab in this crazy weather will be damned near impossible. Who knows if the El subway trains are going to be on time either. Driving to Bella's hospital, I see little to no traffic on most of the side streets. As I'm getting closer to Rush University Medical, I see an open coffee shop where I stop at to pick up some coffee and a sandwich for Bella.

By the time I get to the hospital, the snow is coming down hard. There are no spots available, so I cautiously circle around the hospital, loudly listening to NIN. In my second circle, I hear my phone beep.

**To: Edward Masen**  
><strong>From: Bella Swan<strong>  
><strong>Message: I'm on Wood and Congress.<strong>

I see Bella standing on the street corner lightly bouncing on her feet. She must not be very warm as she was wearing those skinny jeans that seem to be trendy. I turn down my stereo thinking she'll just climb right on in. Realising she doesn't know what I drive by her lack of movement towards my car, I honk my horn and roll my passenger window down.

"Hey pretty lady," I shout out the window. "What's your going rate for a few hours of fun?"

Bella laughs and she carefully makes her way to the car. By the time she opens the door, I feel like a douche by not climbing out and opening the door for her.

"As a police officer, you know not to solicit for those kinds of people," Bella chatises lightly. "And how would you know how to approach those kinds of people anyway?"

I give her a grin. "As a police officer, I sometimes am required to do undercover work to get those kinds of people off the streets."

Bella settles in, taking off her grey knitted cap and her purple mittens. From where I am sitting, I can smell strawberries as she finger-combs her hair. Strawberry now becomes my favourite scent, only because I can associate it with Bella. I hand her the coffee and brown bag that contains her sandwich.

"Here, I got you something in case you didn't get a chance to eat," I explain.

Bella gives me a sound of content as she rips open the wax paper around her sandwich and takes a big bite. The contented sound she makes as she eats shoots sparks down to my cock, causing it to wake up from its long slumber. _Oh baby Jesus, if you're listening, please do not let me embarrass myself with my neglected cock._

"God thank you! I thought I'd have time to sneak into the cafeteria before my appy, but I didn't get a chance," Bella says, wrapping her hands around the paper cup.

"I wasn't sure what you like for your coffee, but the bag has creamers and sugars." I use my chin to point at the brown sack on her lap.

"Right now, I'll drink whatever that's hot and has caffeine," Bella says after swallowing a mouthful of mozzarella, pesto and tomato sandwich. "Oh! I forgot to tell you where I live." She provides me an address in Lincoln Park, one of the up-scale neighbourhoods in Chicago and near the park.

I let out a low whistle as I pull away from the hospital. "Nice neighbourhood."

"I got lucky. One of the attendings was selling their condo for almost rock-bottom because they had just bought a new house. And I really needed to find a place to stay since I was moving from Seattle. I guess the stress of paying two mortgages got too much and renting it would be too much of a hassle."

That explains the strange area code. I wonder how long she has lived in Chicagoland. What brought here her? There's got to be reputable hospitals in Seattle that she could've worked at. Why is this girl driving me nuts?

We continue talking about her growing up in Seattle and me growing up in Chicagoland. By the time we pull up her building, it's late. I'm sure Bella is exhausted at this point and probably wants to sleep. Me, I'm tired, but not enough for her to go.

Thankfully, the fates are in my favour as her building is completely dark—along with other buildings on her block.

"Crap," Bella says forlornly. "I guess the power is out."

"That means, no heating either," I surmised. I try to be as patient as I can, but inside I'm bursting with excitement. This will be a not-so-creepy way for me to ask Bella if she'd like to crash at my place, even though we haven't dated—something I'd like to remedy very shortly. _Fuck yeah!_

"I have a fireplace, but hadn't thought of getting firewood," Bella shakes her head.

"Why don't you stay at my place?" I ask. And I hold my breath. The ball is now in her court. She can either accept me, or reject me. Either way, I understand where she's coming from and hope that we can still be friends.

"What if you don't have power either?" She's biting on her lower lip, which is distracting the hell out of me and causing all sorts of emotions to course through my body. I wonder if she's thinking of saying yes, but doesn't want to sound too forward.

"I have provisions and firewood, if that's the case," I easily reply. Ex-Boy Scouts are like that—always prepared. Unlike her, I generally keep a few cords of wood on hand because I like the ability to have a fire going during the winter. My pantry is stocked with non-perishable food items, and I am pretty sure my camp stove will still work.

Bella continues to worry her lip. I can clearly see she is actually debating my preposition. At least I wasn't immediately shot down. This is good, right?

"I'd like to take you up on your preposition, Lt. But I need to run inside to grab a few things. Could you please come in? …With a flash light?" Bella barely whispers the last part.

Afraid of the dark or still unsure of her environment? I know she's not the most graceful of people—after all, she did slip at my parents and somehow managed to walk into me to fall on her ass at the hospital. Either way, curiosity got the better of me. I mean, who knows when the next time I'll be able to see the inside of Bella's home?

"The Mag light is in the glove compartment at your knee. If you want to reach in there, we can use that," I point.

Bella gives me a smile and reaches into my glove box for the huge Mag light that I store in there. She flicks it on to see if it works and bright white light fills the inside of my car.

"Oops, sorry. At least it's working," Bella apologises. "Let's go inside and grab my things before we get stuck in a blizzard."

I really hope we are.

/ / / / M V \ \ \ \

Bella disappears into one of the rooms while I am left to my own devices. I let her use my flashlight, so only have the light coming in from the street lamps outside to guide me around her living room. I can see she has a dark entertainment stand on one end with a large flat-screen TV. Surrounding the TV are shelves and shelves of books. I can't read the titles, but I can tell her collection comprises mostly of thin journals and paperback novels.

Before I can wander any further, Bella returns with a small roller suitcase and a messenger bag.

"I'm sorry for the suitcase. I don't have anything smaller than this," she apologises, rolling the bag behind her as she comes into the living room.

"Nah it's okay. I've got the room for it anyway," I say, offering to take her bags.

After she makes sure everything is locked tight, we both head back to my car. I store her suitcase in my trunk and she places her messenger bag in the back seat. Before she gets a chance, I walk quickly to her door and open it before she gets a chance to do it herself.

I jog around the front and climb into the driver's side. Although we weren't gone long, the car is freezing and Bella's teeth are chattering with the cold. I couldn't help notice that even though her pants do amazing things at accentuating her figure (I had to look at her ass as we were climbing up the front steps of her house), they did nothing to keep her warm. Feeling bad, I shrug out of my coat and hand it to her, which she gratefully takes and buries herself under it.

"Let me crank up the heat for you," I say, reaching out to fiddle with the temperature settings.

"I feel like I keep saying it but really, thank you for all you've done," Bella says after we drive a bit. "I was honestly dreading on how I was going to spend my days off at the hospital. I should've thought to watch the weather station to see what was going to happen with all this snow."

"I think you had a lot more going on in your mind than the weather."

Bella gives me a shrug and leans her head against the headrest of her seat.

As we drive further north to my neighbourhood of Ravenswood, I notice huge sections of the way up is dark.

_Awesome. This probably means no power at my house. _

"I don't think I'm going to have power either," I say, hopefully without too much glee.

"Oh… Well we'll be okay, right?" Bella asks with concern.

"We'll be fine. Like I said, I have food, wood, stored water… All set for Snowmaggedon."

I'm not sure what she is thinking, but pretty soon I hear soft, measured breathing coming from her side of the car. Since I'm at a stop light, I look at Bella—who is now fast asleep.

_Poor thing probably had a few hours of sleep these past couples of days. _

I've heard some of the crazy shifts that Rosalie had scheduled from Emmett and how some days she would come home and sleep for hours. Emmett's told me more than once that he has checked up on Rosalie sometimes during these sleeping stints because she would sleep so deeply and still that he was worried that she had passed away during her sleep. I guess the phrase "sleep like the dead" really has truth behind it.

Even though the light changes from red to green, I can't tear my eyes away from Bella. The image of her sleeping with the soft amber of my dashboard lights casting a faint glow on her face is one that I will forever treasure. Even though she wasn't wearing as much makeup as she was the last few times I've seen her, she's radiant. Her hair is a long wavy mass that caresses her shoulders and curtains her breasts. Her skin looks so exceptionally soft that I resist all temptation to reach out and cup her cheek with my hand. I reach over and pull my jacket up higher up on her chest to keep her heart warm.

A horn beeps behind me, shattering the moment for me. I glance up to peer out of my rearview mirror to see a modified truck with a snow plow attached to the front. Seeing that the street up ahead was still untouched, I pull over to the side and allow the truck to go in front. I know my car could handle the snow, but I rather be on the safe side. It would embarrass me if I got stuck only a few yards away from my house after I boasted to Bella earlier that day that I could navigate my way through the snow safely. I follow the truck anyway to my street and park in my driveway.

I feel bad about waking Bella up since she seems to be sleeping so soundly, but it's not like I can't keep her in my car. So I gently shake her shoulder. She doesn't stir at all. I shake her a little harder this time, saying her name. No dice.

_Huh. I guess I'll carry her in. _

I run around to the trunk of my car, grab Bella's suitcase and my gun case, and run it up the steps to my townhouse. Even though I know it's hopeless, I flick the light switch to see if maybe I have power. Nope, no dice. Instead, I hop down the steps to my car and carefully open the passenger door so I don't disturb Bella. She's still sleeping peacefully, totally oblivious of everything. I take a risk, and reach out to touch her jawline. Even as I'm seeing myself do this, I cannot stop myself.

_So smooth. And perfect. I want this. _

Bella still doesn't stir after I run my fingertips from her earlobe to her chin, which is quite fortunate for me. I don't know how I would explain why I was touching her while she was sleeping without sounding like a stalker. I widen my stance and squat down to lift her up bridal style, watching her head so she doesn't bang it against the car frame. Using my butt to close my car door, I carefully carry her up the steps and into my darken house. As I get to the landing, Bella stirs.

"Edward…" she mumbles, turning her head into my chest. My heart soars as she nuzzles her nose against my shoulder. "Are we home?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Wow. Sorry this was so freaking long. I knew how this was going to start, and how it was going to end. But I wasn't sure what was going to happen in between as I had no outline written out. I guess this means I ramble a whole freakton. XD Hopefully all of it is enjoyable and gives you a better idea about what Officer Hottie is feeling. And I promise that future chapters won't be nearly as long as this.

So yeah, review! Let me know what you guys think.


	7. Don't Give Up On The Wanting

**A/N**: Back in BPOV. Hope you enjoyed a little break from her thoughts… ;)

In celebration of my **50****th** comment, I introduce a little surprise within this chapter—and why it's rated **M**.

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns _Twilight_ and the characters within. Too bad I didn't have Officer Hottie dreams before hers… U_U

Music: "Amid the Falling Snow" by Enya  
>"Because I Want You" by Placebo<br>"Closer" by Nine Inch Nails

* * *

><p>Chapter 7: Don't Give Up on the Wanting<p>

I know I'm not home because when I roll over in bed, I don't fall off the bed like I usually do. And plus, I don't even remember my bed being this comfortable. You'd think that being a doctor I would have a lot of nice stuff, but the truth is I have sucky pay and no reason why I need to spend so much money on a bed and bedding when I'm only going to be able to use it _maybe_ a few hours each night? And who is going to see my bed aside from me? Exactly!

I'm still confused on where I am. I vaguely remember leaving the hospital, but _how_? I absentmindedly rub my palms on the bajillion count sheets, thinking about the events that lead up to me leaving my shift last night. Coming up with a blank, I grow somewhat scared. I seem to have forgotten how I got to…Wherever the hell I am. Did I get a cab ride home? No, I couldn't have. Otherwise, I'd be in my own bed. I know Rose couldn't take me home because she was just coming onto her shift. I remember seeing her before hurrying to leave. But why was I in a hurry? Was I meeting someone?

I begin the feel the flutter in my chest that usually signifies that I'm about to have a panic attack. To help ward it off, I turn to my side and hug one of the pillows to my body. And the smell hits me…

_Edward. _

I groan. His smell is intoxicating. I know that if I was locked in a room full of men, I would be able to hone in on Edward just by his smell alone. If his smell was a drug, I would be addicted. I slowly rise from the bed, I can smell _him _everywhere. Am I hallucinating or is this a really good dream? Even I don't dream this good. And lately, I've been having some really awesome dreams—including one of him carrying me in his arms. I could even _feel_ his strong chest against my cheek as I nuzzled towards his warmth. That was one of my better dreams. Until I had this one.

I fumble to my side, hoping to find some sort of light. My hand brushes against a cool metal stand that vaguely feels like a lamp. I sneak my fingers up the stand to find a switch of some sort. When I find it, I click it to find that it does not work.

_What the hell_?

I lower my hand to find a cold plastic form of a Blackberry. I press a random button and see that it is indeed my phone. Using it as a flashlight, I swing my legs off the bed and onto the cold hardwood floor. Using my outstretched hand and my Blackberry, I slowly navigate my way around the unfamiliar room to a door. I open it to find a huge closet which is saturated with Edward. If I weren't so freaked out at this point, I would rush inside this closet, pull all the clothes off the hangers onto the ground, and just roll around in it—like a child would with a pile of leaves. Instead, I close the door and move along the wall to another door. It opens to a dark hallway that has some light. I walk towards the light, curious to see what the source is.

The source of the light is a number of candles that line a set of wooden steps going down. Every third or fourth step has a glass candle. This provides me enough light that I no longer need my Blackberry, which I then slide into the back pocket of my jeans. Figuring that my dream-mind is telling me to follow the light—literally—I carefully make my way down the steps. The temperature drops as I make my way downstairs. I hug my arms against my body, hoping that I would trap some warmth in my vital organs area. My body is way too cold for this to be a dream.

The candles veer off to the right at the bottom of the steps into a large space. By now, my eyes have adjusted to the darkness. I can see an eerie light coming from one large bay window on the left wall into a room that I now recognise as being a living room. I shuffle my feet towards a dark rectangle, something I assume to be a couch. As I get closer to the couch, I hear heavy breathing.

I freeze. Someone else is here with me, and I don't know who the hell it is.

I quickly glance around, hoping to find some sort of weapon. My feet bump against a hard object resting on the ground. Soundlessly, I squat to the floor and feel a case, almost like a briefcase. But this one is locked tight, but heavy as hell. I lift it up, hoping that I can swing it hard enough to do some sort of damage. Slowly, I make my way towards the couch and the unknown person.

My heart is hammering in my chest. I really hope that whoever is on the couch doesn't have vampire hearing or my advantage of surprise would be completely compromised. I am thankful for the collection of lit candles on the coffee table in front of the couch, which will allow me to get a better view of the person. I peer over the couch and hope to hell whoever is hiding there is someone who is a whole lot smaller than me.

He's not. In fact, he's the star of my bizarre dream. _Edward. _This dream has gone totally bizarro.

And he's all curled up on his tiny couch wearing only his boxers. One arm is folded under his head for a pillow, the other is resting across his stomach. His thin blanket has managed to slip off his body and onto the floor, allowing me full view of his bare legs. Because he is so tall and the couch is obviously too small for him, his long legs are tucked and drawn up. His breathing is deep and measured which leads me to believe he's asleep. I lower the case to the floor and walk around to the front of couch.

He stirs slightly causing me to freeze. He gives a huff sound before straightening out one of his legs and goes back to sleep.

_Whew_.

I kneel before him on the floor in front of the coffee table while keeping an eye out on him. From this angle, I can see his dark eyelashes so long that they feather across his upper cheek. Normally I would think it would look too feminine on a man, but for Edward they are _perfect. _His face is completely clean shaven, something I've never seen on him. I'm not sure if I prefer the light scruff that I've associated as his "image" or this clean-shaven look. His hair, on the other hand, still looks like sex hair. I assume it's because it's unmanageable because it doesn't look like he uses any product in it. It just looks clean and soft.

I figure since I'm in a dream, I might as well dream big. So I reach my right hand out and lightly run my fingers through his hair, down his sideburn and onto his cheek. The candlelight highlights the bronze tints of his hair, giving him a golden glow.

His hair feels softer than mine, which is totally not fair. Especially since he probably uses crap shampoo and I use expensive organic and sulfate free shampoo and conditioner to make my hair a _little _manageable. I run my fingers though his hair a few more times, resting my chin on the very edge of the couch so I can continue to look over his face. I'm amazed to feel the difference between the soft hair on his head and the coarser hair that make up his sideburns. Jacob didn't have sideburns for me to admire, and very little body hair for that matter.

If I was paying attention, I would have noticed that his deep, measured breathing became shallower and sort. I would have also noticed that as I was running my hand through his hair to his neck, his eyes had opened. But I wasn't paying attention, obviously. I was utterly fixated on _feeling_ Edward more than _seeing _him at this point. Needless to say, when I did realise that he was awake, I gave a gasp of surprise.

I had placed my hand against his bare chest to help me push myself away when I had my realisation. He must have understood my intention because the hand that was previously resting across his stomach was now wrapped gently around my wrist. I knew that I could've broken away from him except I really didn't want to run away this time. I'm tired of running away from him. Judging by the look he was giving me, he didn't want me to run away either.

Wordlessly, Edward slowly moved to a sitting position, still holding my wrist against his chest. I could feel his pectoral muscle flex and relax as he boosted himself up. He felt so… Right. Following him, I rose to my knees so I was somewhat eye level to him. With his free hand, he lifts it to my cheek and softly caresses it. I instinctively lean into hand, enjoying the feeling of his cool callused palm against my too-hot skin.

Edward finally lets go of my hand to carefully run it through my hair. This allows me to feel his smooth chest, which is lean and defined. Although he's not brawny like Emmett, he's still muscular but more so like a swimmer rather than a footballer. His skin is surprisingly smooth except for a small patch of hair that circles his belly button and dives into his boxers. As I watch my hand roam down to this area, my breath hitches. Even though it is dark, I can clearly see his erection straining against the confines of his boxers. It's impressive to say the least. I want to free him from the confines of his boxers, but I'm not sure if my dream-mind can properly detail Edward's cock. I can definitely remember his erection pressing against my thigh when he caught me on Thanksgiving. I want that feeling back, only this time against my core.

Edward drags his hand through my hair and down my arm. Suddenly I feel like I'm wearing too many clothes. I desperately want to feel his hand on my bare skin. I stand abruptly, pulling myself from his touch. He gives me a longing look and one of… disappointment before he lowers his face into his now empty hands.

"Edward," I softly say. "Look at me."

It takes him a minute to comprehend my gentle command, but he does slowly look up at me.

"I want you to look at me… _All_ of me."

As this is a dream and not reality, I push aside my insecurities in attempts to show Edward my own desired for him. With a deep breath, I slowly unbutton my jeans, watching his expression shift towards one of desire and lust. He soon realises what I'm about to do and scoots forward on the couch. I don't know if he's trying to stop me or to help me, but either way I back away from his hold with a shake of my head. He leans back on the couch, still watching me now with hooded eyes. I step out of my jeans and nudge them to the side with my foot. Taking a deep breath, I lift my off-shoulder sweater. For the moment my head is covered with my sweater, his breathing gets more ragged. I really hope it's because he's turned on rather than disgusted.

My sweater clears my head, letting me see Edward as I stand before him in my lacy boyshorts and matching bra. I silently thank Rosalie for yet another contribution to my lingerie collection. I hope in my next dream I will have just as nice underwear—or even better, I'll start out with a whole lot less clothing.

Now we are evenly clothed.

I let Edward admire my semi-nude body. His eyes roam a number of circuits from my head to my feet, and back up again. With a smile that I can only describe as satisfaction, he opens his arms to me. I walk to him, letting him finally be able to touch my body. His large hands span across my taunt stomach and down to my hips where they rest momentarily before up my arms and to my shoulders. He pauses, almost in hesitation before gliding feather soft to my breasts. His hands palm my breasts gently, almost if they are fragile globes.

Now this is not going to happen. Afterall, it's my dream, right?

I raise my own hands and cover his. I gently squeeze his hands, hoping he understands what I'm trying to convey. He understands almost immediately, and begins to squeeze and kneed my breasts on his own.

I close my eyes and tilt my head back, enjoying Edward's ministrations for a few moments. He finds my pebbled nipple and lightly pinches it with his long fingers. I moan with pleasure and bring my focus back on Edward.

His eyes have a glassy look to them. I'm not sure if he's even seeing what he's doing but rather using his sense of touch to guide him. Regardless, I want to feel more of _him_ against my bare flesh. I take a small step forward, allowing me to straddle his legs with my own. Looking down, I can see the opening of his boxers parting a bit, giving me a small glimpse of his hard cock. I lick my lips as I slowly lower myself onto his lap, hoping that my throbbing core will come in contact with his boxer-covered cock.

When I seated firmly on top of him, we both groan with contentment. Feeling Edward's erection now with such little clothing between us is amazing and nothing like our chance encounter before. Furthermore, in the position I am in, I can rub myself against him. I slowly gyrate my hips against his lap, rubbing my now soaking wet core against Edward's throbbing cock. My right hand rests on his shoulder while my left on his back.

Dreams rock. Especially ones as realistic as the one I am having.

Edwards nudges my bra cups aside, baring my breasts to him. Anticipating his intentions, I arch my back slightly to allow him better access to my nipples. One hand clamps onto one breast and the other is splayed on my low back to provide me better support as I continue to grind against him. He takes one nipple in his warm mouth and begins to suckle and circle with his tongue. I begin to pant as he switches between breasts.

I can feel his boxers getting damp with my secretions, creating delicious friction between our bodies. He gives a grunt of pleasure as I rake my fingers across his back—hard. That'll leave a bit of a mark.

"Ed…ward…" I pant loudly. Such a wanton, but who honestly cares? "Ughhh."

Edward stops his ministrations with his hand and moves it down to between us. I can feel his fingers begin to probe my clit through my sopping wet panties. His mouth now latches hard on the flesh above my breast. I move my head forward to rest my cheek against his right shoulder.

"So…beautiful," he says breathlessly. He rubs my clit with more pressure, building up the coil of tension deep in my abdomen.

"Uh…Ed…Ward… I'm...FUCK," I exclaim as the tension continues to tighten. I know I'm not going to last much longer. In attempts to contain my moans, I latch my mouth onto his shoulder and bite… Hard. He shouts loudly, but not with pain thankfully.

Edward tenses under my body with an explicative, indicating that he, too, will seek release soon.

And together we orgasm, yelling out each other's name.

Hearing him shout my name is the last thing I remember before blacking out.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: For those who aren't gun aficionados (or redneck, like me) a gun case is a locked case that one would store guns and ammo in. Pictures of Edward's case is linked on my blog, citrus-twist[dot]blogspot[dot]com. I'm also on twitter if you want to stalk me there—[at]needacoffeeIV

SO… Who needs to change their panties/underroos now? XD I cannot be held responsible for any underpants damage that occurs as a result of this story ;)

Soz this took a wee bit longer to post. Can you blame me if I am only human? ;) Not only do I now have a beta (YAY!)—meet **Edward-Jacob4Ever01**—but also **sheviking** was devious and posted her own update to _Taken in the Night_. If you haven't had the opportunity to read it, search for it or find it under my "favourite stories" section.


	8. Lend Me Your Heart

**A/N**: So yeah… As many of you may have surmised that I can be one strange little girl. Most of the time, I ignore my Story Alert emails because honestly, I get SO many of them in any given day (more than review e-mails, unfortunately). But the ones that add me as a favourite writer or have this as a favourite story—those are the ones that make me curious. I can't believe some of you people lump me in the same league with writers who have THOUSANDS of reviews. And then there's mine with my (very awesome) 60+. A very humbling experience, no? I just hope this story is up to everyone's expectations!

I hope that if you've made it this far without a review that you make find the minute or two for you to write one. Honestly, writers THRIVE on reviews. They shape our writing and make us, well, better writers. And I read every single one… Most of the time I respond back immediately.

So please review. Not just my story, but all the other stories you read on FFN. We really appreciate it.

This story goes out to my faithful team of ego-boosters AKA: Mel (awesome beta), ShamelesslyObsessed, twilightmenrhot , KristineM and Vanquish13. You guys have been with me since the beginning. Thanks a lot. 3

Soz about the long A/N. This has been on my mind a lot.

NOW. STORY. YAY.

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer blah blah. No copyright infringement intended. Blah blah. Got it?

Music: "Awake My Soul" by Mumford & Sons  
>"Say You're Mine" by Kate Voegele<p>

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><p>Chapter 8: Lend Me Your Heart<p>

You know that feeling where you know you're awake, but you're too afraid to open your eyes because you don't want to break that dream-like state? Where the dream you had was so _real_… And perfect… That you don't want to shatter the blissed-out moment by coming back down to reality?

This is me, right now, as I am lying in bed. My dream with Edward was so… Fuckawesome to say the least. I've had dreams, and then I've had _dreams_. This one was so detailed and _vivid _that I can still feel the squishy wetness between my legs. And a warm arm wrapped across my naked breast. Wait a minute, that's not my arm. And why am I naked? I don't sleep naked, hardly ever. Or with anyone for that matter. I slowly open my eyes, taking in the weak grey light that is struggling to make its way through the windows. I hear no traffic—which is very odd. I then remember the snow and what I thought was a dream…

Out of my peripheral vision, I see a shock of titian bronze hair. And I only know one person in the world that has hair that colour. I stifle a groan as I turn my head slightly and see a sleeping Edward laying on his stomach right next to me—more like, on top of me. Somehow he managed to pin my right leg with mine, and I had my left on top of his shin. I see that the arm that is wrapped around my body is his and the "pillow" I'm lying on is really his other arm. Thankfully he left his underwear on because I now recognise his hard cock resting against my thigh.

_What the fuck happened? Was last night's dream really not a dream? And when did the bra come off?_

I watch Edward as he breathes in deeply and evenly. I cannot untangle myself without waking him up and quite honestly, I don't mind the human cage he's wrapped around me. In fact, it's keeping me quite warm when I should be freezing like I normally am.

I'm mesmorised at the golden hair that lightly covers his forearm. Jacob didn't have much body hair because he was always so warm and had manscaped most of it off for his comfort. I run a flattened palm of my left hand from his elbow down his forearm and marvel at how coarse, yet really soft his arm hair is. More importantly, the ropes of muscle that make up his forearm are amazing. If I had Edward as my class' model for anatomy and physiology class, I would have paid a whole lot more attention during lecture. With the pad of my index finger, I explore each muscle that makes up the human forearm: _extensor digitorum communis_, _extensor carpi ulnaris_…

"That feels really fucking amazing." I freeze just as I get to his _extenson carpi radilis longus_ muscle.

I gasp in surprise, caught again admiring Edward's body while he's sleeping.

I turn to look at his face, smiling as I see his own half smile and heavy-lidded green eyes. Edward pulls me closer to me, trapping his erection between my thigh and his pelvis. _Well good morning to you too. _I rest my hand on his muscular thigh.

"Good morning," I say quietly. "Sleep well?"

Edward's half smile turns into a full smile right as he leans in to kiss my cheek.

"I thought it was all a dream," Edward sleepily says, closing his eyes again. "But now that I'm awake, I know that last night was real."

_Uh… You and me both, dude. _Except I couldn't tell him that because if I did, I didn't want him to think that I was any way regretful or in doubt of what happened last night. The only regret I had was the fact that I didn't take my panties off. Urrgh.

I gaze at Edward, enjoying the comfortable silence between us. Reaching with my hand, I run my hand through his hair. There are so many different textures that make up a man. The hair on his arm, thigh, jaw, head… All different, but all _Edward_. Much like the soft skin that covers his strong arms. I've seen a lot of naked bodies in my medical career—not so much in my personal—but Edward's alone elicit so many delightful feelings for me, as well the burning sensation of desire deep within.

"What time is it?" I ask, not really wanting to ruin the moment. I vaguely remember making the promise to Rosalie that I would call her as soon as I made it home—after we both jumped like fangirls over the prospect that Edward freaking Masen was going to take me home. She must be frantic with worry.

Edward hooks the arm under my neck up so he can read his watch. "7:30, why?"

I groan loudly. Rosalie won't be frantic but totally freaking out at this point. I won't be surprised if she left me at least a half-dozen text messages on my phone along with a few missed calls.

"I was supposed to call Rose when I got home," I explain as I begin to untangle myself from Edward.

As I rise from a laying position to a sitting on, I cross my arm across my chest to cover my bare breasts. A worn burgundy shirt is thrust into my vision as I'm frantically searching for my Blackberry.

"It'll be big on you, but it'll cover you up," Edward suggests.

I look at him with a look of gratefulness and shrug the shirt on, enveloping myself with the scent of Edward. I secretly hope that I'll be given more opportunities to wear his shirts in the future. But first, I really need to find that damn phone…

/ / / / MV \ \ \ \

Just as I predicted, I had 4 missed calls from Rosalie and 9 texts.

**From: Rosalie Hale  
><strong>**To: Bella Swan  
><strong>**Message: Don't forget to tell me how the ride home was.**

******From: Rosalie Hale  
><strong>**To: Bella Swan  
><strong>**Message: OMG what gives? It's been like 2 hours since I saw you.**

…

**From: Rosalie Hale  
><strong>**To: Bella Swan  
><strong>**Message: You better not be floating in Lake Michigan because Edward went all psycho on your ass.**

_**You have… 4 new voicemails. First voicemail from 312-612-8555 received at 7:12PM  
><strong>_"_**Bella… It's Rosalie. Where the fuck are you? You better call as soon as you get this fucking voicemail"**_

…

_**Fourth voicemail from 312-612-8555 received at 6:35AM  
><strong>_"_**Bella, if you don't seriously fucking call me in the next hour, I will call Emmett, who will call Edward and his whole department to find your ass."**_

"Uhm Edward, you might want to check your phone," I suggest ask I delete Rosalie's last voicemail.

"Oh…Shit," Edward swears, bounding to his folded pants on the armchair nearby. I pulls out his phone and goes pale.

"Emmett called me too and left me death threats with instructions to call," he says as he scrolls through his own missed history. "I guess we better go do damage control."

I nod, getting up from the couch and up the stairs to the room I was in last night. As I'm climbing up the stairs, I immediately dial Rosalie's pager to call me back. Within a matter of seconds, my phone rings.

"Bella, where are you? Emmett drove by your house and you weren't there," Rosalie says tearfully. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

"What? Rose! No! Calm down, I'm fine," I say calmly. "Did Emmett say if I had any power at my place?"

"Power? No. What's that have to do with anything?" Rosalie asks.

"I came home and there was no power at my house, so Edward suggested that since I didn't have any provisions to survive the storm, I could crash at his house."

I can hear Rosalie's evil cackle from the other end. "Crash, huh? You guys fuck yet?"

"WHAT?" I exclaim, momentarily forgetting that Edward is just downstairs, and that my voice may well carry down the steps. I lower my voice. "NO! Like it's any of your business…"

I begin to pace the length of the room, keeping my eye at the open door to make sure Edward doesn't creep up behind me.

"You need to bone the man soon, baby girl," Rosalie says evilly. "I'm sure he wants to as well, judging how he was looking at you all Thanksgiving day. The nerve of him! Especially since Tanya was there."

"Ro, wait. I don't think Edward is with Tanya," I explain, pausing in my pacing. "Edward says they are just friends." I worry the ends of my hair with my fingers, twisting long strands and tugging them gently.

Rosalie snorts loudly. "Yeah right. That's what _he_ says, but Emmett's told me that they've known Tanya and her family for _years_. I guess Mommy Cullen has been trying to set up her baby boy with Tanya all this time."

I freeze all together. What? Hold on, Edward didn't tell me that part. Maybe they are actually together? We didn't exactly talk about what happened at Thanksgiving, and Tanya's obvious flirting but Edward practically ignoring her.

"Ro, I gotta call you back. And tell Emmett to hold off from charging the fort, okay?"

"You got it. OH! I slipped some condoms into your purse last night when you weren't looking," Rosalie says softly.

"OH MY GOD, ROSALIE!" I exclaim before hanging up on her ass. Snarky bitch!

"Everything okay, Bella?" Edward asks as her rounds the corner into the bedroom. He leans up against the doorway with his arms crossed on his chest. I can see the definition of his arms without the hindrance of clothes and just about creamed my panties—again.

_Wait, focus, Bella!_

"Yeah, just… Rosalie…" I drift. "Uhm, Edward?"

"Yeah?" he asks, gracefully unfolding himself as he slowly walks over to me.

"I have somethings I want to ask you and I'm worried that it's going to make you mad," I duck my head at the last part. I know I _shouldn't_ ask, but I can't help _but_ ask. Not only have to satisfy my own curiousity, but to quell any rumours floating around. I absentmindedly run my hands through my hair, worried on how I am going to approach the situation without ruining what we have. Whatever the hell we "have".

Edward is now standing in front of me, wrapping his long fingers around my wrist and gently pulling my hands out of my hair, sliding his hand down to hold my own. He uses our joined hands to pull me closer to him, resting our hands on his smooth, muscular chest right over his heart. I can feel his heart beat racing in his chest, much like how my heart is skipping in my own. We're standing so close now that I have to tilt my head back to look up at him. I stare at his lips, wondering why I didn't have the courage to see how his lips felt against mine or how his mouth tastes. I know they felt amazing against my nipples and breasts.

He angles his head slightly, leaning down to me with his lips slightly parted. His warm breath washes over my face, and I can taste cinnamon on his breath. This close to his face, I can see the gold flecks in his desire-glazed green eyes. I will my eyes to stay open so I can forever remember kissing Edward Masen, sex god from Olympus.

And then, we can hear someone knocking loudly at his door downstairs.

Motherfucking cockblock.

He looks at me with regret. I can see that he's debating whether or not to ignore the incessantly pounding at his front door.

"I'd ignore it, but it may be Emmett with the entire Chicago PD," Edward says.

I try to speak, but I cannot form any words. Instead I gently push him out away, giving him a look that I hope conveys my understanding. I know that if I do say anything, I may not be able to stop the tears that will follow. I so badly want to kiss him, but I don't want to kiss a man that I cannot fully have.

"I'll be right back," Edward promises, kissing the top of my head before turning to run down the stairs.

I silently close the door behind him and lean against the cool wood. Taking a deep cleansing breath, I mentally go over how I am going to talk to Edward about his possible girlfriend—ignoring the fact that I want to kiss him until I can no longer breathe.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Who do you all think is at the door? Emmett? Or maybe even Tanya? ;) And who else is proud that Bella's gotten over her aversion of the f-bomb? ::raises hand::

And sorry about cockblocking a great makeout session. Funny story about that, actually. I recount what happened on my blog, citrus-twist[dot]blogspot[dot]com.

Someone asked me about why Edward is Masen whereas the rest of his family is Cullen. I do plan on addressing it (in fact, I was going to in this chapter, but I DID promise no more 3K+ chapters!) soon.

Remember, reviews = love. If I get my 100th review before I post chapter 8, I will celebrate with another EPOV and that reviewer will get to read it before it goes live on FFN.


	9. The Space Between

**A/N**: ::clears throat:: Yeah so the time between updates is so… Not typical of me. Had a bit of a rough time figuring out who was going to be at the door. ;)

This chapter was largely influenced by Florence + the Machine.

Thanks again to my beta, **Edward-Jacob4ever01** and my awesome pre-reader, **queen cullen0527**. You guys rock my socks off… Literally. ;)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer totally owns _Twilight _and the characters within.

Music: "Collide" by Howie Day  
>"Party Rock Anthem" by LMFAO<p>

* * *

><p>Chapter 9: The Space Between<p>

I thought that after being alone with only my thoughts for a few minutes, I would go into hysterics. Instead, I walked to my suitcase near the foot of my bed (must have missed Edward bringing it up) and open it for my toiletries and a fresh set of clothes. Even though I knew with the power being out, I wouldn't be able to take a shower. But I really wanted to at least wash my face.

After cleaning up a bit, I threw on a lacey grey tank under a blue plaid shirt with a pair of jeans. I rummaged to the bottom of my bag and grabbed my TOMS shoes and slipped them on, giving me some insulation between the frigid wooden floors and my bare feet. As I paused in my ministrations, I heard two voices downstairs—one distinctively Edward's and the other a bell-like female voice that sounded vaguely familiar. I took a deep breath and emerged from my room and headed downstairs.

When I entered the living room, Edward and his guests turned to face me.

"Bella!" Alice exclaims. "Are you alright? Did my Neanderthal brother kidnap you?"

A wave of relief crashed over me when I see Alice and not, maybe Tanya, in Edward's living room. I let out a laugh of relief.

"No he didn't. Because I had no electricity, Edward invited me to stay here as he is better prepared than me for the storm."

I move further into the living room and see Jasper sitting on Edward's couch where we, uhm, yeah. I want to look at Edward, but I know that if I do, I won't manage a straight face. Instead, I keep my eyes on Jasper, who gives me a polite nod as a greeting. I gave him one in return before sitting down on the adjacent armchair. Because there is nowhere else for Edward to sit, he half-sits on one of the armrests of the chair I'm sitting on. I scoot over a little to give him room and place my hands in my lap so I don't mistakenly place it on his jean-clad thigh. But I can still feel the heat emanating from his thigh to my shoulder.

"We weren't sure what happened to you, Bella. Everyone was so worried, especially Rosalie," Alice explained. She gracefully perches herself on the edge of Edward's couch. What is it with this couch?

"Oh yeah, I already talked to her," I inform. "She already gave me an earful. But I totally deserved it for worrying everyone."

"Since we're here, I wanted to talk to you about this weekend," Alice says with excitement.

"What's this weekend?" I ask, finally looking up at Edward.

Edward looks down at me and explains. "Alice has a new show for her newest collection this Friday, and Saturday she's having an afterparty at Eclipse* downtown."

"Really?" I giddily ask. Eclipse is one of Chicago's hottest nightclubs, but the wait in the club can be rather lengthy and many do not make it in. Thankfully, I'm not a club person at all—spent too much time in the libraries studying for exams and such to club. But from what I've heard from some of my co-workers, it's _the_ club to go to in Chicago for those over 21. "How did you manage to get the place booked? I heard the waitlist is over a year long."

Alice gives me a beatific smile and looks at Jasper. "Jasper owns it."

My mouth drops, causing Alice and Edward to laugh. "No. Freaking. Way."

"Just co-owner mind you," Jasper corrects, placing a hand on Alice's leg. "I wasn't sure if adding a club would be beneficial for Hale Properties, but it seemed to work out real well for us."

I sit in shock. Jasper Hale as in, Hale Properties—one of the largest property development and management companies in the state and possibly the whole state? No, this cannot be.

"Hale Properties…As in, the management of the Willis Tower?**" I stupidly ask.

"The one and only," Alice beams. "Jasper's family has worked hard for a number of generations in the Chicago, Seattle and LA areas."

I lean back in amazement. Does this family get any more talented? "That's really awesome, Jasper."

"Thanks, Bella," Jasper says sheepishly. "But I think we deviated from the original topic of conversation."

"Oh yes! After party. Pleeeeeeasssee Bella, you have to come!" Alice pleads, clasping her hands together. "Edward's going to be there. And Rosalie and Emmett! I think Carlisle and Esme are going to be making an appearance as well!"

"Uh, I wouldn't know what to wear and if I'm even working that day or not," I explain.

"Oh, I already took the liberty of asking around if you had Friday off. Apparently you are scheduled to work 'til 3, which will give me plenty of time to come over and help you out," Alice says excitedly. "You can even be one of the first people to wear a piece from the Mary Alice Brandon collection!"

Damn you, Rosalie. Or maybe it was Rosalie, who knows. I honestly didn't mind since I didn't even know what my schedule was like. Regardless, I feel overwhelmed. I've never been to a nightclub—much less one that will probably be filled with totally posh people. After looking at Alice's angelic face, I can feel myself agree before I can rationally think my decision through.

"Sure Alice," I blurt out. "That actually sounds like a lot of fun."

Surprisingly, I find that I am truly excited about the prospect of going to Eclipse and doing something other than studying or working my ass off all weekend. In fact, for the first time I have something to look forward to doing that wasn't school or work related.

As we were talking about the upcoming weekend and Alice's show, the power was restored to the house. In a way, this made me a little disappointed because that meant I had no reasonable excuse on why I could continue staying at Edward's. I glanced at Edward when Alice was talking to him, his expression jovial as Alice teased him. But for a moment, a look of disappointment flashed in his eyes. I knew then that something had sparked between us. How we were to kindle the fire, however, was another story.

/ / / / M V \ \ \ \

I didn't get to see Edward after he dropped me off at my house later that evening. We didn't really get an opportunity to talk alone either, as Alice and Jasper stayed at Edward's the whole time. It almost felt like they were chaperoning us as we obviously cannot be left alone.

In the days leading up to Alice's party, I threw myself in work. I didn't get an opportunity to talk to Rosalie because we were working practically opposite shifts with her in the OB/GYN department and me in Emergency. Rosalie and I did manage to finalise our game plan for the evening. She was going to pick me up from the hospital when my shift was over and we were head over to her place so Alice can dress the both of us in outfits from her show the night before. Outfits, we deduced, was probably code for "dresses".

_Oh God. I have to wear a dress. I haven't worn a dress in…Eons. _

I avoid wearing dresses or shorts because I feel like I have knobby knees. And it also helped to have trousers or jeans on since I lack grace and find myself tumbling or falling all the time. Oftentimes, having jeans saved me from having a nasty scrape on my knees. But I knew that wearing even dress pants at Alice's party would be awkward, based off the information my co-workers provided. Yes, I made the mistake of telling them that I was going to Eclipse that weekend.

"Ohmygosh! I can't believe that you're going to Eclipse without us!" Jessica, one of the nurses on the floor said on Friday.

_Whatever. It's not like we ever talk. I don't even think you know my name, bitch. How you managed to get your nursing degree is beyond me…_

"You'll have to tell us all about it, Bella," soft-spoken Angela said. Angela is a resident like me and I've always liked Angela. When I first moved here, she offered to help me unpack my apartment before we started our residency and even gave me a lift around town when my truck hadn't arrived from Washington on time. From time to time, we would even go out for drinks to a bar nearby after our shifts were over—mostly so she had a "wingwoman" while she spoke to the bartender, Ben.

"I'll try to remember every minute detail to let you all know about it," I promise. "But I got to go guys or I'll be late. Have a great weekend!"

With a final wave, I walked to the residents' locker room to shower and change out of my scrubs. This was going to be an amazing night.

/ / / / M V \ \ \ \

"Oh my gosh Bella, you look totally fab!" Rosalie gushed.

I smile weakly, unsure if her compliment was even true. While getting me ready, Alice had explicitly stated that I was not allowed to see anything until later. I think she knew how nervous I was because she had cheerfully suggested that we pre-game with peach cosmos. For someone who rarely drank, they were delicious and I was on my second—or maybe even third—drink.

Rosalie looked amazing in a purple sleeveless dress that rouched a bit on her torso and black heels. The length of the dress and the killer heels made her legs look even longer than usual. Her hair was pinned back with her blonde curls draping softly down her back. I am sure she'll have Emmett panting the moment she steps out of the car.

"Yoo hoo, Bella?" Alice says, snapping her fingers in front of my face. "You awake there, sweetie?"

"Sorry Alice, guess I was dozing off there for a sec," I apologise.

"Oh we can't have that happening," Alice chatises lightly as she skips over to Rosalie's sound system. Her ivory silk and black tull dress swishes, giving her an almost childlike look… Until you see her 6" heels that no child should ever wear. She fiddles with her iPhone's playlist for a bit. Soon, LMFAO's "Party Rock Anthem" plays loudly over Rosalie's high-tech speakers.

"Woo!" Rosalie yells, raising her martini glass in the air. "This is so our theme song for the night!"

Alice grabs a new drink for me and brings it to me, shimmying in her dress and heels.

_Huh, I guess that 2__nd__ or 3__rd__ drink magically disappeared. Oh well. Refills!_

"A toast to us, ladies. Three gorgeous women about to take on the town," Alice says, lifting her glass to Rosalie's.

"And have the best night _ever_," Rosalie adds.

"I'll drink to that," I state, clinking my fresh drink to Alice and Rosalie's. "To us!"

"To us!" Rosalie and Alice chime in together.

/ / / / M V \ \ \ \

We arrived to Eclipse in a black limo. I was surprised that the boys weren't already in the car and voiced this to Alice.

"The boys are already there. We have to be fashionably late," Alice says with a wink. "And I make the rules tonight."

Rosalie and I laugh at Alice's pun. I almost forgot the occasion for the party until we rolled up to the entrance of the club. Standing beyond a corded pathway were a group of photographers taking photos of those arriving at the club and making their inside. There even was a red carpet!

"Whoa. That's a lot of paparazzi," Rosalie says in astonishment.

"Wait, they are here for you, Alice?" I ask in amazement.

"Well, you and Rosalie too," Alice says, taking one last look at her makeup in one of the limo's mirrors. "I didn't allow non-fashion photographers inside the show yesterday, so these guys are probably taking pictures for the internet and such."

"I'm going to be on the internet?" I squeak.

Alice gives me another wink. "Welcome to the Cullen family, baby!"

With that, the chauffer opens the door closest to the club. Emmett peeks his head in and gives Rosalie a hungry grin.

"Looking hot as usual, babe," he says, holding out his hand for Rosalie to take.

Rosalie giggles as she gracefully swings her legs out of the limo and holds onto Emmett's hand. When she departs from the limo, I can hear the _pop pop_ of the cameras' flash and the group of photographers yelling out for her attention. I peer out the darken window and see the crowd sidestep their way down the red carpet, each taking at least a dozen pictures of Rosalie and Emmett. I take a gulp.

"See you inside, Bella!" Alice says as Jasper reaches in to help her out.

Through the open door, I can hear a loud applause and shrieks from a large crowd of people that have gathered behind the photographers. They, too, are taking pictures with their own digital cameras and phones. One man that was close to the limo yelled out to her that he was her number one fan and that he loved her.

Oh. My. God. How am I going to do this? On my own, no less! I slump back into the limo's leather seat, willing myself not to cry. I know that if I ruined my makeup I would have the wrath of Alice on my behind. Damn my tearducts being hardwired to my emotions! I take a deep breath.

_I wish Edward were here._

"Bella?"

I turn to the voice—the voice I desperately wanted to hear at that moment. I stare at him, unmoving.

Edward has his head poked in the doorway of the limo. His hair is in its usual disarray—all hot sexy. His dark eyebrows are furrowed and his green eyes have a look of concern. When I don't respond, his look of concern becomes one that is a little frantic.

"Are you okay?" Edward asks, climbing into the limo next to me.

"I… I don't know if I can do this, Edward," I choke out. "And I don't want to let Alice down."

Edward reaches out and grabs my hand. His warm hand gives my ice-cold one a gentle squeeze. "How about we do this together?"

"You mean you'll walk me in? You won't leave me behind"

"I would never do that," Edward says, pulling me to his chest. His hand cradles my head gently and rests our joined hands to his chest. I clutch onto the lapel of his suit with my free hand and take a deep breath, inhaling the sweet, masculine scent that was uniquely Edward's. I can feel Edward's lips press against my head.

"Let's do this," I say bravely, leaning my head back so I can look at him. "We can do this."

Edward gives me a beautiful smile and nods. "We can."

With that, Edward climbs out of the car, still holding my hand. I carefully make my way out of the limo and become instantly blinded by the first few flashes of camera light. Unsure of what to do, I give the crowd my most radiant smile and wave a little while Edward escorts me down the red carpet. I silently pray to Krishna, God, Buddha—whoever that is listening to me—that I won't trip and embarrass us. I tighten my hold on Edward's strong forearm.

We make it down the red carpet without incident and into the darken entry of Eclipse.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: So it was Alice! I hope you guys are chill with that. I HALF contemplated about having Tanya show up, maybe with a nightie and bunny ears? Just kidding, guys! ;)

Also, check out my blog for pictures of everyone's hot outfits. You'll get to see how Bella looks, _before_ Bella does! citrus-twist[dot]blogspot[dot]com.

Do you think Edward would look hotter in his police uniform or a suit? Let me know and review! :D

*: Eclipse is an actual night club in Chicago. Except, it's not anything like I am about to describe. So the name similarities are totally coincidental.  
>**: Willis Tower, AKA the renamed Sears Tower.<p> 


	10. Go Little Bad Girl

**A/N**: This chapter… Starts off how I imagined it would. But a lot of you have been asking about Edward's past what the deal is with Tanya. You all definitely deserve an explanation… So here it is. Hope it clears up some confusion you all may have.

HUGE thanks for my beta, **Edward-Jacob4ever0**1 for keeping me company as I wrote this and to my pre-reader, **queen cullen0527** for pushing me to write better. You guys are awesome.

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer had a dream and wrote _Twilight_. I got bored and I wrote _Moving Violations. _

Music: "Little Bad Girl" by David Guetta feat. Taio Cruz and Ludacris  
>"Champagne Showers" by LMFAO feat. Natalia Kills<p>

* * *

><p>Chapter 10: Go Little Bad Girl<p>

The music in Eclipse was just, throbbing. Bodies on the floor were undulating in time to the beat, creating a beautiful wave-like look that I could see from the VIP box above the dance floor. In hindsight, I might have attributed some of this with the amount of alcohol in my system, but I could literally feel the music take over me.

"Let's dance!" I yell to the girls, throwing back the last of my drink. I've been wanting to dance with Edward all night, but he either cannot dance or he's too chickenshit to ask me. Instead, I move from the table that we are occupying to the girls.

Alice and Rosalie readily agree, whereas Esme gives us our leave by giving us a silent toast with her wine glass. I grab Alice and Rosalie by the hand and walk down the steps to the dance floor. Glancing up, I can see that we are still within eyesight of the VIP box—more specifically, Edward's vision.

When the music picks up and morphs into something harder, my dancing gets a little more risqué. Somehow, I managed to wrangle my way between Rosalie and Alice. I have my skirt pushed up a bit so I could straddle Rosalie's booty. Alice is behind me, grinding her pelvis into my backside. Together, we move with the sea of dancers. Sweat glistens off our bodies, but we don't care.

Suddenly, I feel a strong hand wrap around my waist, pulling me out between the girls. I can feel a hard torso behind me. The back of my thighs are slightly rubbing the thighs of my new dance partner. I turn my head slightly to bitch out mystery man to find that it's Edward. And we're dancing.

_Finally._

I smile at him. He returns the smile, resting his hand on my hip. I pull my curls over my shoulder and let them hang in front, giving Edward the opportunity to rest his cheek on my shoulder. Seeing his opportunity, he gives me a kiss on my nearly bare shoulder, causing me to tremble. Mistaking my shivering as being cold, Edward pulls me closer. From torso to knee, we dance as one unit. God bless high heels. The music changes again, this time to "Little Bad Girl".

_Go little bad girl, little bad girl._

_Go little bad girl, little bad girl._

I reach up and place my hand on the back of Edward's neck. Through my thin dress, I can feel his hardness throb against my ass I grind into him harder. Over the music, I can hear him moan in pleasure—sending quivers of desire down my spine. Edward's hand skims down from my hip to my upper thigh where he clenches the material of my thin dress. His other hand moves from my hair to my torso, hovering over my breast. I nod, giving him the permission to cradle my breast in his massive hand. He latched onto it and gives my breast a hard squeeze. I close my eyes and moan as my nipples pebble under his palm. He rubs, almost roughly. The silk of my dress with the pressure of Edward's hand is amazing, making me almost melt in my arousal. Edward gently wedges his knee between my thighs, providing me support I know I will need. I can almost feel the liquid from my thrumming core leaking onto Edward's dress pants. I know he can too as his half-lidded eyes suddenly open wide. I give him a flirty smile as I try to caress my pubic area against his muscular thigh.

_When she moves, girl I want more._

_Keep it going girl, like I got an encore._

Edward bites my shoulder gently, causing me to look at him. He gives me a devious smile and says something.

"Wha?" I yell.

Without indication, Edward spins me around so I'm facing him.

"Let's go," he mouths.

I eagerly nod and mouth back a "yes, please" to him. I am rewarded with a crooked smile as he pulls me off the dance floor. We exit through a backdoor of the club and into the cold night air. We stand in a parking lot, hand in hand, pausing to take a cleansing breath of fresh air. The air instantly cools the sweat off my body, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps. From the corner of my eye, I see Edward shed his suit jacket and offer it to me. I gratefully take it, quickly putting my arms through the too-long sleeves.

"Do you want a ride home?" Edward asks, putting his hands in his pocket.

"Yes please," I answer.

Although most of the snow had been cleared away, there are still bits of it on the outer edges of the walkways and roads which I step around as I walk with Edward to his Subaru. Edward must have sensed my fear of failing and pulled my body closer to his. When we reach his car, he doesn't open the car door for me. Instead, he turns to me so we're facing each other.

"Don't move," he says huskily.

I stand statue-still, waiting to see what happens next. Edward swallows, making his Adam's apple move. I want to lean forward to lick his neck, but I can't. Instead, I look up at him. He licks his lips and leans forward, slowly.

_Oh my God!_

I close my eyes just as Edward's warm lips gently touch mine. As this happens, two things happen: first, I am surprised on how _good_ his lips feel on mine, and two, he tastes so much better than he smells. With his lips still on mine, I open my mouth to deepen the kiss, touching my tongue against his, savouring Edward's taste. Edward growls low in his throat, changing the tone of the kiss. Instead of being chaste and a little more than innocent, the kiss turns almost desperate. Between our meshed bodies, I can feel his hard arousal against my stomach.

"Ahem…"

We quickly turn and see Jasper and Alice standing at the exit way. Alice is smiling at me, giving me thumbs up. Jasper, on the other hand, is flushed. His eyes are averted as to give us a little privacy. I notice that sometime during our kissing, my dress had slid up to barely cover my ass. Oops.

"Sorry to interrupt," Jasper says, not sounding too apologetic. "But you might want to take that somewhere a little classier than the back parking lot of my club."

"Thanks for the idea," Edward curtly says. "In fact, that's what we're going to do."

/ / / / M V \ \ \ \

The ride over to my house was a little awkward to say the least. By now, most of my alcohol induced high was gone so I can't even use being drunk as an excuse for being wanton. I know Edward had one beer early on in the evening, but that was hours ago. What just happened, happened without excuses. Except for the one: I unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him (props to SM for this line). But I didn't know where I stood with Edward. Was his family really trying to set him up with an arranged relationship? Is Edward only responding to my needs because he is, a total gentleman?

"Edward," I say softly. It's time.

Edward turns his head to me and gives me a small smile. "Yes, Bella?"

"Is it true that your parents are setting you up with Tanya?" I ask, turning my head so I could look out the window. _I will not cry, I will not cry. _I try to focus on the passing street lamps, but even they get blurrier as the dammed up tears begin to cloud my vision.

Edward doesn't say anything for a while. Instead, when it was safe for him to do so, he pulled over onto a side street and puts his car to park.

_Oh my God. He's so mad at me. He had to pull the freaking car over._

Instead of anger, I saw a look of weariness on his face. His long, beautiful fingers rest on the steering wheel of his car.

"When I was 4, both my parents were killed from malaria while volunteering with United Planet. You'd think that having all this medical research and drugs at our disposal that something like malaria would be avoidable. But instead, they were so focused on helping others… Even in the last few moments of their lives.

Edward takes a deep, shuttering breath. I don't know if he's going to continue or not, but I stay silent—both out of respect for his parents and to him for sharing this detail with me.

"Carlisle was volunteering with the medical team that was with my parents, but he's also my mother's brother—so he's technically my uncle. But for all intents and purposes, he's my father. He tried to save my parents, but by the time they realised what was happening, my father passed away. My mother followed shortly afterwards. But she made Carlisle promise to raise me as his own, as he is my only flesh-and-blood relative left.

I want to reach out and touch Edward, but I'm not sure if he'd welcome my touch—especially since him telling me about his parents was taking a toll on him. His fingers were clenched so tightly on the steering wheel that his knuckles were bloodless-white. Edward's head was thrown back, resting on the headrest of his seat. His jaw muscles alternated between being flexed and relaxed. A small piece of my heart was breaking for his loss.

"Tanya's parents were practically the only ones that support Carlisle and Esme in the adoption process of me. The rest of 'society' almost shunned them because they had brought back a 'wild African boy' to take care of. Mind you, part of that is right. I had lived in Africa all of my life, I had little experience with American ways… Needless to say, I was a bit of a hellion growing up. I spoke hardly any English and still lived like I did in Africa. I couldn't sleep on a bed for years after I moved to Chicago. Instead, I insisted on woven mats like I had when I was in Africa. Thankfully, Alice and Emmett were exceptionally… Welcoming. Alice, especially.

"Mr. and Mrs. McKinley basically welcomed me with opened arms. They invited us kids over as much as possible so I could get some socialization skills with their kids. Even though Tanya isn't much now, she was my best friend growing up. It was natural to assume that we were going to get married someday.

My heart skipped a beat as my chest filled with ache with a touch of panic.

_Married. To Tanya McKinley. _

Edward loosens up his grip on his steering wheel and lets his hands fall into his lap. He lifts his head off his headrest and turns to look at me. I try to not let the panic show on my face, but I can't help the tears roll down my cheeks. My breathing hitches, providing both of us warning that I may have an episode much like the one I had in the hospital stairwell. I begin to claw at the car door in attempts to ground myself before I embarrass the shit out of myself.

_I've fallen in love with a man who is practically engaged… What have I done? _

When Edward sees the panic become real, he quickly unbuckles his seatbelt to jump out of his car to my door. He flings it open, pulling me out with it and into his arms. He cradles my body against him.

"Oh… My… God," I hyperventilate. "What…The…Fuck... Ta…Ta…"

"Shhh, Bella," he whispers in my ear. "She's not for me, Bella. She's not for me... _You _are, crazy girl."

When my brain is able to comprehend what he's telling me, everything shuts off. My panic. My fear. My insecurities. All that's left is Edward and me. Standing on a street corner with him comforting me, letting me know that Tanya isn't a threat. Only me. I twist my fingers into the back of Edward's dress shirt, probably wrinkling it forever. Instead of being upset, Edward just lifts me up, allowing me to wrap my legs around his torso. His strong hands cup my ass, supporting me as I cannot do it on my own.

"Oh God, Bella. Where have you been all my life?" he asks with such emotion that my own heart soars.

"It doesn't matter where I was," I answer, lightly kissing Edward's neck. "All that matter is I'm here now."

Edward sighs with content. "I don't want to lose you."

"Don't let me go," I say, almost pleading.

"I won't…_ever_."

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Like I said, NOT what I intended for the ending. In fact, the next chapter was supposed to follow Edward and Bella going home. But I definitely wanted to clear the air for all y'all before I go any further.

Also: I have over 100 reviews now! Aww thanks guys. My 100th reviewer is **KristineM**. She will have the opportunity to choose ONE chapter for me to write in EPOV, and I will post it as an outtake/extra when it's complete.


	11. Working Too Hard

**A/N**: HUGE thanks to my betas, Mel and D, for getting this chapter back to me so quickly. Their speediness is the reason why this chapter is being posted so quickly.

Okay so this chapter is going to move a little faster only because 1) I need to get this sex angst out, and 2) writing about four days of work would be REALLY boring for you guys.

So I decided to compromise and write this chapter as if I was Bella and Copward (major props to **queen cullen0527 **for naming our hottie officer this!) was my pseudo-lover.

Remember, this story is rated **M**. ;) Just sayin'.

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns _Twilight _and the characters within. I just play with them.

Music: "Sparks Fly" by Taylor Swift  
>"Hands" by the Ting Tings<p>

* * *

><p>Chapter 11: Working Too Hard<p>

Edward and I didn't get an opportunity to see each other over the next few days. He was working 4, 10-hour shifts, but he would then have the next 2 days off. Even though my schedule was going to be a little chaotic for the next few days because the hospital was going for their annual review, we managed to keep in touch through phone calls (most of them ending up as voicemails) and text messages. I had to be somewhat on my toes whenever I would either call or text Edward back so Carlisle and the review board wouldn't see me "slacking off".

As I finished up my morning rounds, I could feel the distinctive vibration of my Blackberry in my coat pocket. I fished my phone out after depositing my charts at the nurses' station.

**To: Bella Swan  
>From: Edward Masen<br>Message: What are you doing, beautiful?**

I quickly duck into an empty supply closet so I can reply to Edward's text without getting caught. As I reply, I smile hugely.

**To: Edward Mase  
>From: Bella Swan<br>Message: Finished with rounds. What's up with you?**

In attempts to look "busy", I absentmindedly rummage through some of the supply shelves "in search" of something in particular. A nurse comes in, almost knocking me over by swinging the door too hard.

"Oh Dr. Swan! I didn't see you there," Jessica says with mock concern. "Are you okay?"

Each of the supply doors had a small, 6" by 24" window that we can peer into. It wouldn't have been hard for Jessica to see me if she had actually looked through the window—something we all do out of habit so we _don't _have doors slamming into staff or even patients.

_Pure, unadulterated bullshit, Jessica Stanley. Nice try, _I think to myself.

"I'm okay. Maybe lower the gusto in opening the supply door next time?" I suggest, still rummaging through the shelves. My phone buzzes a number of times in my pocket, but I ignore it. The temptation of pulling it out to see who is calling me is great, but I know that if I step out of line with Jessica, I may not hear the end of it.

I can hear Jessica gasps, probably out of surprise. Normally, I let her walk all over me even just so I could avoid confrontation. The bond between the nursing staff and the doctors is important to maintain since we're always helping each other. But over the past few days, I've had enough of Jessica's snarkiness.

"Uhm… Did you need help finding something?" she asks.

"Just looking for some lotion for one of my patients," I lie. "But I've got it, Jessica. Thank you anyway."

My pager goes off, interrupting what bonding moment I could have had with Jessica. Needless to say, I'm not remorseful or upset. In fact, I was starting to feel a little claustrophobic with Jessica standing there, breathing with her stupid mouth open with wide eyes. Thankfully she hears my page as a sign for her to leave and to do so quickly.

"Uhm, no problem. Well, I'll see you around!" Jessica says, turning on her heel to leave.

As soon as Jessica leaves, I pull my phone out to see Edward's newest text.

**To: Bella Swan  
>From: Edward Masen<br>Message: When's your next day off?**

Good question, I'm not entirely sure myself and will need to check the schedule to learn that. But I'm due for another day off or at least an evening off since I've been at the hospital almost round-the-clock since Saturday.

**To: Edward Masen  
>From: Bella Swan<br>Message: I'm not sure. I'll let you know? And don't you dare ask Carlisle!**

After being scheduled stalked by Alice and Edward, I had asked Carlisle not to reveal my schedule as it is supposed to be my right to do so. Carlisle apologised, stating that yes it was my right, but he didn't see it being harmful. I did agree with him, but I didn't want his authority to be abused by his own children. I can't wait for Edward's reply, so I quickly head to the nearest phone to check out the reason for my page.

/ / / / M V \ \ \ \

I see that during my shift, I had a few of unread texts from Edward, mostly about how dull his day was and that he wishes he could swing by the hospital—even if it's to see me for a few minutes.

His latest one was sent at 10:37PM.

**To: Bella Swan  
>From: Edward Masen<br>Message: Text me your schedule. I don't care how late it is.**

I look at my watch; it's currently 2:15AM. Well, he _did _say he didn't care. I text him a response as I'm brushing my teeth and getting ready for bed.

**To: Edward Masen  
>From: Bella Swan<br>Message: Good news! I have Thursday evening and all Friday off. Lucky me, huh? : )**

As I strip off my clothes and into Edward's faded burgundy tee—yes, I stole it. And no, he doesn't know I have it… I think—I hear my phone chirp back.

**To: Edward Masen  
>From: Bella Swan<br>Message: ! : ) : ) That's awesome, babe! Pick you up Thursday evening?**

**To: Bella Swan  
>From: Edward Masen<br>Message: 7. I can't wait!**

/ / / / M V \ \ \ \

**To: Edward Masen  
>From: Bella Swan<br>Message: Is it Thursday night yet?**

**To: Bella Swan  
>From: Edward Masen<br>Message: 24 hours!**

Another text quickly shows up after this one.

**To: Bella Swan  
>From: Edward Masen<br>Message: Not like I'm actually counting or anything… Oh yeah, wear something pretty.**

**To: Edward Masen  
>From: Bella Swan<br>Message: Pretty…Dressy?**

**To: Bella Swan  
>From: Edward Masen<br>Message: Nah. Just pretty. ; ) You'll look gorgeous regardless.**

Sounds like I need Alice intervention. I remind myself to call Alice after finishing with my surgery and let her know I need a proper "pretty" outfit to wear for Edward and my first date.

/ / / / M V \ \ \ \

**To: Bella Swan  
>From: Edward Masen<br>Message: I'm on the corner of Wood and Congress. ; )**

I read Edward's latest text just as I stash a pair of clean panties into my tote bag. I debated whether or not I should include some of the condoms Rosalie gave me as well, and ended up throwing a few in just in case. I didn't know what the unspoken rule was as far as which partner was in charge of providing condoms, but I figured that if I were to get some tonight I wasn't going to let the lack of protection stop us from having sex. Especially since the situation could've been easily remedied by me bringing the condoms I already had. I take one last glance at the mirror, making sure my grey silk blouse and taupe dress pants looked right. I was a little disappointed that I couldn't wear my hair down, but it was still mostly wet and I didn't want it to catch on the buttons of my herringbone wool trench—something I painfully saw as problematic and not sexy at all. Satisfied with my overall look, I quickly left the locker room and headed out to our designated corner.

Just as I round the corner of the building, I see Edward standing next to his car, holding a large bouquet of daffodils and other flowers I cannot recognise. Regardless, they are perfect—just like him.

"I brought you something," Edward says, shyly. "I wasn't sure if you liked flowers or not."

"Oh Edward," I gush, running up to him. "They're gorgeous! Thank you."

I stand on my toes to give Edward a kiss. Noticing that I'm not nearly as tall as I normally am, Edward lowers his head to make it easier for me to reach him.

"You're short!" Edward laughs.

I give him a dirty look. "Your sister was merciful on me and allowed me to wear flats today. Can we _please_ go do something? We can even go to the park and just talk."

"Oh I'm sorry! Are you hungry? I made reservations for dinner. But if you're not hungry, we can go…"

"Actually, I was wondering if we could just spend some time, you know, inside. Like, you come over or something," I ask, feeling my face flush with my embarrassment.

_God I sound like a lush… But honestly, who can resist Edward? _I mentally chatise myself.

Edward opens his mouth but no words come out. He quickly closes his mouth and swallows audibly.

_Oh dear Lord… I've stunned him into silence! _I remorsefully think to myself.

"I think that would be a nice idea," Edward meekly responds. "Your house or mine?"

"Doesn't matter. Although I must say I am still lacking in food and beverages at my house, but we can stop by and grab groceries real quick if you'd like," I offer.

"How about just coming over to my house? I have steaks and stuff we can make… That is, if you eat meat," Edward quickly adds the last part.

"'Steaks and stuff' sounds perfect," I mimic his earlier statement with a smile.

Edward gives me a crooked grin at my jest and helps me climb into his car. The interior of the car is still blissfully warm, and I give a contented sigh as Edward turns on my heated seat. Someday when I actually buy a car, I'm going to get a car with heated seats like Edwards.

"Better?" he asks as he drives.

Seeing that his free hand is resting on his thigh, I boldly reach over and thread my fingers through his long ones. He gives me a small squeeze.

"Now I am," I say with a smile.

/ / / / M V \ \ \ \

As we are walking to his front door, Edward woefully apologises for his house being a mess.

"I haven't had time to pick up since getting off, and things have gotten to be a little untidy."

I brace myself to seeing empty pizza boxes and beer cans strewn all over his clean, modern living room. But instead, as we walk in, I just see a few things out of place—a sweatshirt on his couch, an empty coffee mug and plate on his coffee table—nothing that seemed grossly out of control or resembling anything like a typical bachelor pad. Edward offers to take my jacket, which he then places it into a nearby closet along with his own.

"This is untidy?" I tease Edward, picking up his sweatshirt.

"Hey, I haven't washed that in two days!" Edward reaches out to grab the sweatshirt from my hands.

Instead of letting him take it, I artfully dodge out of his grasp with a giggle. "No way, sir. In fact, I am now documenting this as official evidence."

Edward gives me an arched look. "And what do you plan on doing with that evidence, ma'am?"

_Oh. My. God. He's gone all sexy police officer on me. Well two can play this game… _I deviously think to myself._  
><em>

I don't answer him. Instead, I tuck his sweatshirt between my knees so I could take my own top off. As soon as my vision disappears from pulling my blouse off, Edward inhales sharply. I reemerge, staring directly at Edward. His eyes have glazed over and his jaw has gone slightly slack as he moves his eyes over my nearly-naked torso. Normally, I would've quickly replaced my blouse with Edward's sweatshirt because of all the attention I was getting, but now I am enjoying his adoration. All I need is his touch.

"Come here, Edward," I purr.

_Where did that come from? _I mentally wonder._  
><em>

Edward's eyes snap up to meet mine, giving me a look of astonishment and delicious hunger. I see no revulsion over my forwardness or for my body. He gracefully moves towards me, keeping his hand to his sides. When he's inches away from me, he stops, still not making a move to reach out and touch me.

"Edward, I _need_ you to touch me," I plead softly.

A deep growl emits from Edward's throat as he steps forward to close the gap between us. His hands go into my hair, pulling my hair tie out and allowing it to fall in dark curls down my back. His hands provide support to the back of my head so he can kiss me, over and over with such fierceness but always tenderly. My mouth eventually parts open for his, feeling his tongue explore my mouth and my own tongue. My feverish body responds, rubbing against Edward. I am delighted at feeling Edward's soft sweater rub against my bare skin, but I know feeling Edward's skin against mine would be _so_ much better.

With shaking hands, I search for the hem of his shirt—almost clawing at his abdomen in attempts to pull what material I could up. Edward steps back slightly, breaking apart our lips. I give Edward a slight pout, but quickly sigh as I watch Edward pull off his sweater, revealing his muscular torso. I run my hands lightly from his shoulders down to the fine misting of hair on his lower abdomen. Edward groans. As I'm looking down, I can see Edward's erection straining against his pants. I almost feel bad for him being so restrained because, if I remember correctly, his erection will need a _lot _of space for freedom.

Before I could second guess myself, I lower my hand further and trace my finger alongside his stiffness. Edward takes a sharp intake of breath, waiting to see what I do next. I look up at him and give him the sexiest smile I could before I slowly pull down his zipper, loosening his pants. They fall and pool at his feet. Standing only in his boxer shorts, it is my turn to stare.

Edward looks so much better in reality than in my dreams, for how can a mere mortal create such perfection—even in dreams? Looking over his body, I realise that there are minute details of Edward that I leave out. I forgot small details like how his skin feels soft and warm but firm under my hands; the crinkly down feeling of his body hair on his stomach and arms compared to the silky smooth hair on his head; and how when he's aroused, just as he is now, his green eyes turn almost amber with his desire.

Reaching out, Edward unzips my pants and lets them join his own on the floor. One hand rests on my hip and the other on my shoulder, playing with the ends of my unbound hair. Suddenly, he lifts me up and I instinctively wrap my legs around his stomach—neither one of us caring that my almost-too hot core is now leaking my desire onto his abs.

"I want to do this the right way," Edward huskily says in way of an explanation.

_Like I need an explanation… _I think in a huff._  
><em>

"I want you, in my bed, beneathe me… Ontop of me… Everywhere. Just… Not here. You deserve so much better than hardwood floors."

Edward makes his way up the steps into his bedroom. As he moves, I wrap my arms around his neck, kissing, licking, _tasting _Edward. At one point, he has to reach out and hold onto the stair railing because my teeth find his earlobe and begins to gently pull on it, causing him to miss a step up. He catches us, not disrupting me as I move from his earlobe to his carotid artery. I can feel his blood pulsing quickly under my lips. I bite just to the side of it so I don't hurt him.

"Dear God woman, you're going to kill us both," Edward says breathlessly.

"Then I suggest you move… Faster," I tease.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I only stopped because I realised how many words I already had so far (I actually wrote part of Chapter 12 as well). I figured this was a great place to stop.

And I PROMISE no interruptions. No phone calls, no Tanya, no Alice (although that WOULD be funny…Can you see Alice's little head just popping up right now?).

Pictures and music mentioned in this chapter can be found at citrus-twist[dot]blogspot[dot]com. I also post previews for upcoming chapters-sometimes before my Betas get them! ;)

Reviews = foreplay!


	12. So Lost For You

**A/N: **PLEASE read the note at the end. It's important!

Huge thanks to my betas, Mel and Queen D. You guys rock my face off.

Disclaimer: Really? SM owns Twilight. But I really wish this scene would own me.

Music: "Crash" by Dave Matthews Band

* * *

><p>Chapter 12: So Lost For You<p>

Edward cups my ass with his free hand and growls at me to "hang on tight" as he rushes up the remaining steps gracefully. He kicks his bedroom door open and manages to make it to his massive bed before he falls forward with me on my back. In preparation of falling, I release my legs' vice-like grip around his waist, causing his thighs to lie flush with mine. Thankfully, he uses his arms to prop himself up off of me so I wasn't burdened with his whole weight. I could feel his hard cock pressed against my thigh. I try to scoot up to let his erection press against my pubic bone. Edward gives me a crooked smile.

"I recognise this bra," Edward says, fingering one of my bra straps. "Is this…?"

I look down at my chest, totally forgetting which bra I had put on in my rush to get dressed. I'm surprised that I even put a bra on. I see my breast covered by sheer purple material. When I realise what Edward is implying, I look up at him with a grin.

"The one and only," I reply. I run my hands up and down Edward's lean back, enjoying how his long back muscles flex and relax as he tries to get a better look of my bra.

"I wanted to see you in this bra as soon as I saw it lying on the ground," Edward admits, tracing my bra strap to my hardening nipple. "I had dreams of you wearing it."

I gasp as his finger playfully circles around one bra-trapped nipple.

_Damn bra! I don't care how sexy it may look, but it's seriously getting in the way! _I silently curse to myself.

"Mmm," Edward hums, lowering his mouth to my nipple. His tongue replaces the motions that his finger was just doing moments before. I wiggle my pelvis against him, trying to find some way to relieve some of the building pressure low in my abdomen.

"Ed…ward," I beg.

"Mmm?" He slides his finger between my skin and my bra and hooks my bra down so he has unrestricted access to my nipple. Edward mouths my entire nipple, lightly biting it. One hand drops from his back to the cool sheets beneath me. I grab a fistful and throw my head back. Who knew I was into kinky foreplay? Jacob generally fumbled around, insert part A into slot B, pump a few times and then release—always his, never mine. I am determined to get my own release, even if I have to hump this poor man in his sleep. I loudly moan, enjoying the balanced mixture of pain and pleasure. This causes me to lift my hips slightly, cradling his erection between my thighs.

_I have found you, my preciousss… _I think.

Edward's mouth tries to latch onto my other nipple as he grabs the center part of my bra and pulls it away from my body. I hear the thin material rip to give way, but my breasts are finally released of their confines, giving Edward full access to my breasts and nipples. He sucks hard on my other nipple, using his tongue to tease its tip. I release my hold on the sheets and reach down to Edward's firm ass and grab a hold of his boxers. Finding the waist band, I slide my hand and feel the taunt muscles in his ass. Edward releases his hold onto my nipple and pushes his hips forward, trapping his tortured cock against my pubic bone.

_God, he's built like a Greek statue-hard, well defined muscles, _I hum in content.

Using a combination of my feet and hand, I somehow manage to pull down most of Edward's boxers. He helps my struggle by pulling his hips away from my own, springing free his erection. Edward gives a sigh of relief. I smile. Taking advantage of being now completely naked, Edward reaches down and grabs a hold of my thong underwear. I can feel it easily give away, leaving me now blissfully naked under Edward. I give a sigh of content.

Edward looks down at me, brushing my hair out of my face with his hand, causing me to pause.

"What?" I ask, holding his hand to my cheek.

"I just want to look at you for a second," Edward says.

"Uhm…Okay…?"

"The last time we, uhm… I didn't get to look," Edward explains, blushing fiercely.

_God he's so freaking cute! _I sigh internally.

I reach up and run my fingers through Edward's hair and down his back. He rests his head on my chest, shivering as I'm playing with the fine hair on the back of his neck. Edward suddenly pushes his body off of me, kneeling at the foot of the bed.

"Wha…?" I start to ask with confusion. "Edward?"

Edward gives me a devious smile and wraps his long fingers under my knees. I open my mouth in surprise just as he pulls my knees up so that my feet rest flat on the bedspread; giving Edward unhindered view of my nether regions. As he leans forward, I throw my arms out to my sides, fisting sheets in anticipation of what's to come. He removes his hands from my knees and using his right hand to spread my slick lips apart before his warm mouth lapped at my clit.

I nearly come undone. I turn my head into one of the pillows and loudly moan, all the while keeping my hands balled up in sheets while Edward plunges his tongue into my slit, over and over again. The fire that started deep in my belly is now roaring, threatening to spill out of its confines and spread. Just as I'm about to climax, Edward pulls his tongue out but not without kissing my pubic bone.

This pause gives me a chance to catch my breath and for me to release my hold on the sheets. My fingers tingle from the lack of blood circulating in them. I feel Edward gently turn my head so my gaze is now directed at him.

"I want to watch you when I do this," Edward murmurs. He reaches over my body to his night stand for something.

_Do what?_ I mentally ask.

Suddenly, I feel the tip of Edward's penis at the entrance of my core, teasing my clit. The warm feeling inside is rekindled, moving from a low burning flame to a warm fire. I want to grab a hold of Edward and pull him in, but I knowing the wait will make it _so_ much better. Edward gazes at me with a smoldering look as he slowly, pushing his way deeper inside my wet, waiting core. I moan loudly as I feel my walls tighten around his cock, taking every inch of him with pleasure. My body feels full with him inside me, and complete.

"Fuck, you're so… tight," Edward groans, pulling himself out a bit before thrusting himself back in.

"Ugn.. Harder," I command, grabbing Edward's shoulder.

He withdraws his penis almost completely out and penetrates me, hard to pull out again. Instinctively, I lift my hips up, missing the comfortable fullness he gave when his cock was buried deep inside. Edward gives me a growl, taking my free hand with his and pinning it over my head as if he were cuffing me to the bed. Edward uses this as leverage, giving him the support for his frantic thrusts. Edward's other hand goes between us and covers one of my bouncing breasts.

Each time his cock plunged deep into my eager pussy, I cry out with pleasure. My fingers dug into his shoulder and raked down his back, trying to get all of him inside of me. The pain causes Edward to groan and pinch my nipple with his fingers. Edward begins to move more rapidly and impossibly deeper, causing the bed to complain in protest.

I bury my face into his neck, licking the sweat that has lightly covered his skin. Edward's lips find my own neck, tasting my own sweat before he nips at the flesh at the base of my neck. I scream, feeling the orgasm build in my abdomen take over, causing ripples of pleasure to run up and down my body.

"I'm…cumming…" I pant. I will for my eyes to stay open so I can watch Edward as he climaxes, but it's a struggle. Bright white lights shoot behind my eyes. My abdomen clenches tight as I climax. "EDWARD!

"BELLA!" Edward shouts simultaneously. I can feel his body go still as his orgasm ebbs.

And then he falls back onto my body, covering my still trembling body with his own. I can feel his heartbeat, racing to slow itself down. We are both panting and covered with sweat, but neither of us moves out of disgust. Rather, feeling the efforts of our love making makes me desire him again. Edward's mouth brushes a light kiss on my collarbone as I tangle my fingers in his hair. One of my legs wrap around Edward's lower thigh in possession.

We lay there for a few minutes, waiting for our breathing and heartbeat to regulate. I figured Edward had fallen asleep as I hear his breath finally even out.

"Did I hurt you?" Edward ask, voice hoarse from his earlier shouting, I'm sure.

"I don't… Think so," I reply. "I mean, I can feel where you bit me, and my nipples feel a bit sore. But no pain."

Edward leans down to kiss my nipples. I shiver as I feel his warm breath cool my damp skin, causing my nipples to pebble again. When he feels my nipples respond, I can feel _him_ respond inside of me. I smile.

"Ready again, eh?" I ask as his cock begins to harden.

"You really are going to kill me, aren't you?" Edward teases. "But aren't you, uhm, sore?"

"Not right now, no. If I tell you that I want to be on top this time, will that be enough to tempt you to…?

Edward's head pops up from my breast and looks at me. "Really?" he interrupts.

"Why don't we try it and find out?" I ask in a low, flirty voice.

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><p><strong>AN**: I will not be updating MV as often as I have been this past week. Why? Read my notice on my blog, citrus-twist[dot]blogspot[dot]com. **This is important**.

I WILL finish this story. It's going to take more than the original 15 chapters I had planned.

Thanks for your love and support.


	13. I Love the Way You Say Good Morning

**A/N**: Some of you learned about my habit of posting snippets of new chapters on my blog early. ;)

Mad props to my betas **Edward-Jacob4ever01 **and **queen cullen0527**—poor D had to hear about me getting overly excited about RPattz pics and dropping my phone at 11:30P XD

Disclaimer: SM owns _Twilight_. This plot is a figment of my own imagination.

Music: "The End" by Kings of Leon

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><p>Chapter 13: I Love the Way You Say Good Morning<p>

That night, after Edward and I made love for the second time, we held each other and watched the sunrise. Sometime during the night, we had wordlessly agreed not to fall asleep—even though we probably well deserved a few hours of good rest. We didn't want to waste our very limited time together with sleep—especially since we knew that the next few nights will be sleepless without each other. Instead, Edward and I talked about everything—more stories of his childhood, my struggles growing up in a small town and moving away from home for the first time when I got accepted into Harvard's medical program, and most importantly, our relationship. We couldn't stop touching each other, and as we watched the night bloom into the colours of the oncoming dawn, we had sex again but this time slowly and so much sweeter than the previous two times. It was… Perfect.

"Good morning," Edward says sleepily, reaching a hand out to cup my cheek.

"Best morning," I reply with a smile before kissing him.

Eventually we left his room for fear of starvation (which I kept telling him that we were in no danger of starvation at this point) and dehydration (more closer than the truth). We decide to shower together (water conservation and all) and he dresses for the day's activities. My clothes were worse for wear—my silk blouse had gotten rather wrinkly buried under all of our clothes and I was sans bra thanks to Edward ripping them to shreds. Edward lets me borrow another one of his shirts, this time a soft thermal long-sleeved. I beg Edward to let me stop at my place so I can get a fresh pair of clothing that actually fit or at least a bra, and threw in the fact that if I were to spend the night again, I would definitely need to get a new set of clothes for work on Saturday. Edward thought it was quite handy that I had the foresight to include a pair of clean panties in my tote bag the night before and threatened to destroy them later on. I smile to myself, not to reveal my true reasoning of why I had included panties.

Before leaving, Edward remembers that my only overnight-appropriate piece of luggage I owned was my roller bag and suggested that I borrow one of his duffel bags so I do not have to lug my small suitcase around. I relent; figuring that Edward was right—and the fact that I now have something of his that he actually gave me rather than having to klepto it later.

After changing out of my dirty clothing for a graphic tee, jeans, boots and a warmer coat, I pack Edward's borrowed bag with the essentials for that night and my outfit for work tomorrow. By the time I make it back downstairs, Edward is nowhere to be found. Granted, my house isn't that big, but where could he have gone?

"Edward?" I say loudly, searching for him. I walk through the living room into my office and find him standing in front of my desk, looking up at the wall behind it.

"Edward?" I ask, walking up to his side. "What's wrong?"

"You have a medical degree _and _a PhD from MIT?" he asks with panicked surprise.

"Uhm," I stammer, unsure of where this conversation is going. I am pretty sure that I had told him about doing the joint program with Harvard and MIT. "Yeah… A lot of us took the opportunity to get a joint degree. I figured if I didn't like medicine after I did my residency, I could always fall back on neuroscience."

Edward didn't say anything after that and continued to stare at my wall. Edward shakes his head and turns to me with a crooked smile on his face.

"Hungry yet?" he asks, wrapping his arm around my shoulder.

"Famished," I answer, walking with him to my living room. "Let's grab something to eat and just…I don't know, go do stuff."

Edward bends down and grabs the duffel bag. "Stuff, eh? Is that sexy doctor talk for something?"

I giggle, locking the front door behind us. "No, that'll be tonight. I mean something fun."

Edward looks up to the nearly flawless winter sky and thinks to himself. "You think you're warm enough to do stuff outside for a while?"

"Yeah, I guess so. I have a hat and gloves with me if I need them," I answer. "What did you have in mind?"

Edward gives me a wink and he leads me by the hand to his car. "Watch and see, Bella."

/ / / / M V \ \ \ \

During our brunch at the Yolk*, Edward and I were talking about my lack of opportunities for me to sightsee Chicago.

"Edward, I literally just moved here for my residency," I explain, digging into my breakfast of banana bread French toast. "I didn't have time to look at the sights before starting because it took me so dang-long to drive here."

Edward chuckles as he tucks into his monster Works omelette. "Because that historic behemoth of a truck doesn't go over 55?"

I poke Edward with my fork. "Hey, don't be messin' with my truck. He's your car's granddaddy!"

"Fine, fine," he relents. "I really hope that you don't drive that truck too much this winter."

"Yeah, I need new tires, whatever. I'll get around to doing it."

"How about one day when I'm off, I can take care of it for you?"

Edward asks this of me as I'm taking a sip of my coffee, which I proceed to swallow the wrong way. I choke a bit, dropping my fork with a loud clang and nearly chipping my plate in the process. Edward thumps me soundly on my back, asking me if I would be alright. When I regain my breathe, I look up at him.

"Run that by me again?" I ask hoarsely.

"Uh, are you al—" he starts.

"Not that one, doofus. The one about my truck?" I interrupt.

"Oh, I was offering to get your tires replaced on one of my days off," Edward offers again, fiddling with his paper napkin.

_Uhm. Isn't this what boyfriends do for their girlfriends?_ I think to myself, watching Edward tear apart the poor little napkin to shreds.

"Well, I guess so?" Edward responds.

_Huh? Did I really just say that outloud? _I give Edward a confused look.

"I guess boyfriends do that kind of stuff for their girlfriend… You know, taking care of them," Edward stops tearing up the napkin and rests his hand ontop of mine.

I stare at our joined hands, unsure of what to say. Part of me is leaping out of my chair with joy, doing the happy dance. The other is worried about our relationship being doomed, with him working crazy hours and me working crazier hours… How are we going to develop a relationship?

"Edward, listen…" I say, pulling my hand out from under his. Edward's gaze falls from mine and focuses somewhere over my shoulder. "I really do… uh, like you. But how are we going to be… In a relationship with us not being able to see each other often?"

Edward clears his throat. "I think we can make it work."

"Do you? Because I've seen what residencies do to relationships. They tear them apart," I explain, reaching out and holding his hand. I need to touch him, even though what I'm saying is totally contradictory of what I am feeling.

"I think if we work on it really hard, we can do it, Bella. But we have to give it a chance," Edward says, placing his other hand on top of our joined ones. His thumb circles knuckles.

"Edward, I don't know how to tell you this…" I say. Edward's eye flash alarm and then hurt. He tries to withdraw his hands from mine but I grasp his firmly. "Nothing, bad per se…

"What is it, Bella?" Edward asks in a soothing voice.

I realise that my breathing is short and almost gaspy. Edward must've noticed the change in my breathing even before I did. I don't blame him—especially since I've already had anxiety attacks in the past. And I'm sure having one right now at the restaurant would be lovely… Not.

"I…I... I'm so scared that one day you're going to come into the hospital, not as a watcher but as a patient!" I blurt out, stumbling on my words a bit.

Edward looks around and signals our waitress for the check, which she promptly deposits on our table along with two take-out boxes. He reaches into his wallet and leaves money on the table while I sit back in my chair, trying to control my breathing so it's even and steady. Edward quickly boxes our food, grabs my hand and leads me out of the diner. The air outside cools my overheated cheeks, giving me the last edge I need to get a grip on my racing emotions. Edward pulls me to the side so we're out of the way of pedestrian traffic on the sidewalk and wraps his arms around me.

"Bella, I know my job has its downsides and I can't promise you that I won't ever get hurt, but I _can_ promise you that I won't get myself into dangerous situations where I could get hurt," Edward says, looking down at me.

I sniff, wiping away my tears away. "Promise?"

Edward gives me a half-smile and kisses my forehead. "I promise, love."

I wrap my arms tight around his torso, pressing my cheek against his chest, breathing in Edward's comforting smell. I know what he's saying to me isn't unrealistic. Being on the force will always have the risk of getting hurt—or worse, shot. These are risks I know are associated with working in a police department—it doesn't mean that I can't voice my own opinions on them.

"How about we go do something together?" Edward asks. "We can talk more about this tonight."

I eagerly nod. "Where are we going?"

"Have you ever been to the Lincoln Park Conservatory?"

I shake my head. Even though I live literally down the street from the conservatory, I never made an effort to go. I guess my procrastination will pay off because Edward's consenting to see a whole bunch of flowers as his idea of "fun", and I totally don't see Edward as being a flowers kind of guy. I smile at my mental image of tall, handsome Edward surrounded by exotic flowers and ferns… Naked.

"What's so funny?" Edward asks as he leads the way to his car.

Rather than answering him, I give him an enigmatic smile and enjoy my little daydream as Edward drives us to the conservatory.

/ / / / M V \ \ \ \

Edward and I spent the whole afternoon walking around the conservatory, enjoying the multitude of lush green plants, talking about fluffy things and avoiding the pressing issue of my fear of Edward's job. Edward never did bring up why he had his own little freak out in my office, but I assumed that, like his job, was considered taboo to discuss in public.

Our discussion continued into dinner, where Edward and I had Italian in a great little place near the conservatory. While Edward was enjoying his meal of baked spaghetti and meatballs, I couldn't help but think of the Disney movie, _Lady and the Tramp_ where the Tramp gave Lady his last meatball. Either Edward could read minds, or mine is so transparent that he can just know what I'm thinking, because upon my own plate of mushroom ravioli was his last meatball.

"I thought you'd want it since you've been staring at it like it's your last meal," Edward explains, chuckling.

I blush, fiercely, unsure if I should tell Edward _why _I was staring at his meatball so intently. Instead of embarrassing myself, I just scoop up a few of my raviolis and place them on his clean plate.

"I don't want you to run out of energy for tonight," I say coquettishly.

Edward gasps and drops his fork midway into cutting one of the raviolis. Thankfully, the sound of his fork hitting the plate is drowned out by the restaurant's noise around us. I giggle, putting some of the meatball in my mouth. I watch Edward's mouth open to say something, but close wordlessly. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows. I feel bad for him, but not so much where I want to recant my statement earlier. Eventually, Edward just gives me a crooked smile and digs into the ravioli.

Afterwards, Edward took me to Millennium Park to go ice skating. I was worried that it would be too cold for us to skate, and voiced my concerns as we were standing in line to get my skates. Edward looked down at me and assured me that we'd work up a sweat while skating. I stood in place as the line moved around me, running Edward's statement through my head a few times before laughing.

Edward led me to one of the benches around the rink so we could put on his skates. I had never skated before and Edward had, so he had to help me put my skates on. I wasn't sure how firmly I needed to lace them and I couldn't risk hurting myself on the ice. I needed my hands to do surgeries with and it would be near impossible for me to do my high-speed job if I were in a wheelchair.

"I can't believe I'm doing this… I already have issues falling _without_ the ice," I say with worry. I've got a death grip on Edward's arm and hand as we slowly make our way out onto the ice rink. "Are you sure you can do this?"

Edward has one arm wrapped around my waist, holding me against his body. "I've been skating since I was a kid and I've coached ice hockey for a few years. I think I've got this."

"Ice hockey? I didn't know you liked ice hockey," I say, staring down at my feet.

Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle.

"Yeah, I even was on a local team here until I got too busy with work. I was good, too. Real good."

"Mmmm. I can imagine you all sweaty and delicious after a hard hockey game. I don't know if that's sexier than you wearing all that gear," I mumble, licking my lower lip.

Edward stops skating and starts to laugh. I mean, really laugh. The kind of laugh that is just so full and beautiful to hear that others around us start looking at us with smiles on their faces. I can feel the deep rumble in his chest as he's laughing, which causes me to laugh with him.

"I still have my hockey stuff that I can pull out and wear if you really want me to," Edward says after catching his breath. "Then you can judge for yourself."

We skate for a little longer, making a few loops around the rink. Edward was right; I _was _working up a sweat. Eventually, I built enough confidence to skate slowly on my own while Edward went off in search of warm beverages. When he waved me off the rink, I was puffing and a little sweaty. He hands me a paper cup of hot chocolate which I eagerly accept.

"You look absolutely gorgeous right now," Edward says with a smile. "And I'm really proud of you skating on your own. With a little bit of practise, you'll be able to try out for the winter Olympics team."

I smile behind my own cup. "You're special, you know that? And I don't mean the _special _special, either."

Edward gives me a large smile and takes my hand when I finish my hot chocolate. "Think you can do one more turn around the rink?"

I nod, proud at the fact that I don't need to have a death grip on his hand as we make our last circuit around the rink. Towards the end, I actually let go of Edward's hand and he skates backwards in front of me. Just as we're about to exit off the rink, someone from behind bumps into me. My feet lose purchase and I can feel myself falling forward towards the ice.

_Oh shit._ I think to myself as I close my eyes, and brace for impact.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: What do you think will happen? Do you think Bella's going to fall and injure herself?

And what did y'all think of Edward and Bella's date day? : ) Let me know with a review!

Pictures and ish are at citrus-twist[dot]blogspot[dot]com—including sneak peeks for upcoming chapters. ;)

*Yolk: The Yolk is an actual restaurant in Chicago that is known for their awesome breakfast/brunches. It's so awesome that there usually is a 45 minute to hour long wait that is TOTALLY worth it.

Here are some awesome reading recs if you are lacking FF material: "Sex and Other Hobbies of my Roommate" by **MsSailorman**

"Fated Love" by **twilover76**

"She Gives Me Religion" by **LizLemonBennett**


	14. Subject of the Talk

**A/N**: I stretched the history of the McCormick Tribune Ice Rink for this chapter. The real McCormick Tribune Plaza and Ice Rink was opened to the public in 2001, but for the purpose of this story, it was opened in the late 70s.

This one is for all the lovely readers who kept asking for "more" hot chapters.

As always, thanks to my betas **queen****cullen0527**and **Edward-Jacob4ever01**. You ladies keep me sane when I'm going insane.

Music: "Daydreamer" by Adele

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><p>Chapter 14: Subject of the Talk<p>

"What the fuck?"

I slowly open my eyes to see who the owner of the catty voice is and see an Amazoness towering over my prone body. She's wearing black leggings, a ridiculous grey leather and Sherpa jacket that is slightly opened to reveal a thin grey, black and brown sweater—all of which totally clashes with her riot of strawberry blonde curls.

"Watch where you are going, klutz," Tanya sneers at me, putting one hand on her cocked hip. "You don't—"

"Bella!" Edward exclaims with concern as he skates up to me and kneels beside me on the ice. "Are you okay? Anything broken?"

I go through a mental assessment of my body and feel a little sore, but otherwise okay. I am about to voice my results to Edward when Tanya speaks.

"Edward? I didn't know you were here," Tanya says, dropping the cattiness out of her voice completely and replacing it with low, sultry tones.

Edward looks up and sees Tanya standing at my feet. I can tell when he realises Tanya's involvement in my fall when his look goes from one of concern to anger.

"Did you purposely run into Bella, Tanya?" Edward asks darkly as he slowly rises to a stand.

"It…It was an accident!" Tanya stammers, holding out a hand to touch Edward's arm.

Edward flinches to avoid Tanya's touch, which makes me secretly scream in delight. Instead, he gives me his hand to help me up. I give Edward my hand and he slowly pulls me up to a standing position by propping his sideways skate against my own so my legs don't go out from under me. Tanya gives a sharp inhale of breath that I'm sure she didn't want either of us to hear.

"I wasn't paying attention, honestly, Edward. I'm sure Bella will be alright, right Bella?"

I bend over to brush the fine dusting of powdered ice off my knees and legs, making a point that I was ignoring Tanya—regardless of her relationship with Edward. People don't just do shit like that with the intention to harm, especially since Tanya knows a fall or injury could quickly incapacitate me and possibly put an end to my surgical career.

"She's not fine, Tanya. You barreled right into her! You need to be more careful," Edward states angrily. "You could've really hurt her."

I look up to Tanya when she doesn't say anything to see Tanya with her mouth open in surprise.

"C'mon, Bella," Edward mumbles, taking my hand and gently guiding me off the ice to a nearby bench. He reaches down to grab a hold of my skate to loosen the strings.

"I got it, Edward," I say as I try to move my foot out from his lap.

Edward doesn't relinquish his hold, almost as if he doesn't hear me. He's pulling at the double knot with force before he realises his gloves are hindering his progress. He roughly pulls off his gloves.

"EDWARD! I got it!" I loudly say, pulling my foot away from him.

Edward looks up at me finally with dark eyes and almost says something. Instead, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath as I lean over to undo my skates.

"I'm really sorry, Bella," Edward apologises, pulling himself off the ground to sit on the bench next to me. He also bends over to undo his skates. "I've never seen Tanya actually try to hurt anyone before."

I sit up to stare at Edward.

"Edward, you know why, right?" I ask cautiously. I am not sure if Edward truly understands the depth of Tanya's feelings for Edward and unsure if I should be the one to really lay it out for him.

"I can guess," Edward says wearily. He has both of his skates off and is now removing his shoes from a fancy backpack that he apparently had on. He also pulls out my shoes and places them between us on the bench. "I've never taken anyone skating here—not even my family or her. And goodness knows that Tanya's tried to take me skating here."

I nod, pulling on my shoes and handing Edward my skates. He takes them and wraps the laces around the ankle part of the skates before standing up.

"I'll be right back," Edward explains, holding up the tied skates.

While waiting, I see Tanya on the opposite end of the skating rink, talking animatedly with some tall man. She sweeps her arm out in the direction of Edward and the man looks over to him. I can't tell what they are saying to each other, but the man gets very angry looking and turns to leave. Tanya throws her hands up in the air and looks across the rink to catch me staring at her. Instead of avoiding my gaze, she cuts her eyes at me and flips me the bird.

"Ready?" Edward asks, standing next to me. I look up at him to see him giving me a sad smile and his hand extended to me.

"Sure," I say, taking his hand and rising to my feet. I look back to Tanya to see her arms across her chest, still glaring. I give Tanya an shit-eating grin and wave at her. Edward looks over his shoulder to see who I am waving at, but she turns and walks away from our sight.

"Are you sure you're okay? Do I need to take you to the hospital?" he asks with concern as we are leaving the park.

"Nah, I'm okay. I'll be sore in a bit though," I say. "I have Tylenol in my bag that I can take before the soreness gets too bad."

"Want me to grab it for you?" Edward offers as we walk up to his car.

"No thanks. Just take me to your place," I say with a smile. "I can take some there."

"Your wish is my command."

/ / / / M V \ \ \ \

When we get to Edward's house, I'm so sore that getting out of his car is difficult. Instead of seeing me suffer, Edward carries me from his car into his house and up to his room. When I'm resting comfortably on Edward's gigantic bed, he goes to rummage through his medicine cabinet and returns with a glass of water and a bottle of Tylenol.

"I'm going to grab our stuff. Do you want anything from downstairs?" Edward asks after handing me the glass of water.

"Nah, I'm good," I reply, gulping down half the water as I take two Tylenol.

"Would you like to take a bath or something? Maybe it'll help with your soreness," he suggests, taking my glass and placing it on the nightstand next to me.

"Only if you join me," I say reaching out to grab the end of his jacket. I tug on it a bit, indicating that I wanted it off of him.

"Really?"

"I need my stuff first, stud." I giggle, reminding him of his outstanding task.

With that, Edward turns and walks quickly out of the room with me laughing out loud. He may have taken less than two minutes to run downstairs, out to the car for my bag, back in again and back upstairs. Sometime after he left, he has shed his jacket, shirt and now he's hopping around to take off his shoes. I sit up, wincing as the movement gives me pain.

"Whoa, let me help you," Edward says and he rushes to my side.

"Edward, I'm not an invalid," I say, pressing my hand against his firm shoulder. "Although, you _can_ help me take my clothes off."

He gives me a cocky smile and helps me shed my clothing off. By the time we're done, I'm panting from the exertion of taking my clothes off. Beads of sweat dot my forehead and I'm hurting everywhere.

"Do you want me to carry you?" Edward asks.

"Just help me hobble into the bathroom," I wheeze out.

Edward lets me put my weight on his shoulder and arm as we slowly make our way into Edward's bathroom. He lets me sit on the edge of his massive bathtub as he turns on the water. After rummaging in the closet nearby, he pulls out a lavender coloured bottle and proceeds to dump almost half the bottle in. Immediately, frothy bubbles start to take over his tub and the scent of lavender and freesia fill the air.

"I think I put too much in," Edward laughs as the bubbles begin to engulf my legs.

I start to lower myself into the tub, but Edward stops me.

"Let me get in first so I can pull you in," he says as he pulls his jeans off with his boxer shorts. From where I'm sitting, I have a full-on view of Edward's lovely cock that is somewhat awake, but not yet completely hard. I bite my lower lip, wishing I wasn't in so much pain so I can close the distance between his cock and myself. Instead, I look up at him, hoping that he understands what I want from him.

He gives me a knowing smile as he takes a step forward. I reach out to touch him, but as I'm lifting my arm up, a twinge of pain shoots down my arm.

"Ow, what the hell?" I moan painfully. "How am I hurting everywhere?"

Edward sighs, lifting his leg into the tub and settles in. Bubbles displace and threaten to spill out from the tub. I giggle, seeing him play with a large mound of bubbles.

"Well, are you coming in or not?" he asks, giving me a playful pout.

He reaches out to help me slide into the tub and positions me in front of him. I lean back against his firm torso, resting my head on his shoulder, and enjoy the hot water as it loosens my sore muscles.

"Feel good?" Edward asks, massaging my arms.

"Mmm yeah," I purr, closing my eyes.

After a few moments of silence, I open my eyes. By now, Edward has moved from my arms to my upper thighs. I can tell he's enjoying the massage as much as me, judging by his erection pressing against my low back. I wiggle my backside against him, eliciting a sexy moan from Edward.

"Babe, as much as I like you doing that, you gotta stop doing that or I will cum all over your back," Edward says in my ear.

I giggle and stop my movement. Even though I would love to bring Edward the pleasure he is giving me now, I know whatever foreplay we initiate may lead to sex. And bathtub sex is definitely not high on my priorities—especially since there were so many bubbles in tub that could make it dangerously slippery for us. Instead, I awkwardly turn around so I can face him. Thankfully, the combination of drugs, Edward's ministrations and the warm water has definitely helped me in the soreness area, so the movement gives me very little pain. He sees what I'm doing and scoots forward some so I have room to wrap my legs around his waist. His propped knees provide me with back support.

Edward's skin is flushed from the warm water and steam. His hair is sticking up in every direction—total sex hair. I lean forward and give him a chaste kiss on his throat. I _really_want to bite him, but I need to ask him about something he said earlier.

"When you said you don't take people to the ice rink, what did you mean by that?" I ask, running my hands on his pectoral muscles. To my delight, he flexes them, causing them to become firm under my touch.

Edward sighs, running his fingers up my back and threading them into my hair. I shiver, pulling myself closer to Edward's body, resting my head on his shoulder. I grow apprehensive as Edward takes his time to answer my question. Instead of pushing him, I give him the time he needs to answer me. After a few moments, I would have thought he had fallen asleep except I can still feel him playing with my hair.

"My Dad—that is, my birth father—took my mother out on their first date at the McCormick Tribune," he says softly.

I smile at this statement, feeling my heart swell with happiness. I lift my head off of his shoulder so I could gaze at him.

"Thank you, Edward. Today was perfect—especially ice skating."

Edward gives me a half-smile. "Even though Tanya ran you over like a Mack truck?"

"Even then," I admit, biting my lower lip. "I mean, if she didn't bump into me, I wouldn't be having this bath with you."

He gives me a low growl and leans down to kiss me. His tongue caresses my lips causing me to part my own lips as he plunges his tongue into my mouth. Kissing Edward is much like dancing except coordination is all instinctual and kissing is _so__much_ better than dancing.

Pressing his hands against the edge of the tub, Edward pushes us up from the bathtub. I squeal in surprise, holding onto Edward tighter with my legs. When I realise he's not going to drop me, I continue to kiss him—this time with more force and passion. I nibble on his lower lip, eliciting another low growl from Edward. After he stands, he grabs a hold of my ass so I don't slide down his slippery body as he steps out of the tub. I feel a towel drape around my shoulders in an attempt to dry me off, but it's fruitless as he's making a mad dash to his bed. By now we're fighting for the dominate position in our kissing.

Suddenly, I feel myself detached from Edward and falling from him. Thankfully the bed was there to break my fall and I bounce on my ass.

"God, Bella," Edward pants, bending from his waist. "If you don't calm the fuck down, I swear—"

"Swear what?" I say with a flirty smile, parting my knees to the side and exposing my glistening wet pussy.

Edward straightens up and stares down at my exposed pussy, allowing me to see his erection grow even harder and longer. After a few moments, he slowly walks to the foot of the bed, climbs in and sits on his knees at my ankles. He slowly drags his hands from my ankles to my mid-thigh and wraps his long fingers around the back of my knees. My breath hitches as Edward moves his hard cock towards my entrance.

"You like this?" Edward asks, his voice husky with emotion.

The tip of his cock touches and swirls around my throbbing clit. I throw my head bad and moan, loudly.

"Fuck, Bella. I..don't think…I can be gentle," Edward shudders, stilling his movements. His head falls forward, hovering over my stomach.

"I don't want you to be," I tell him, running my fingers through his hair to the tops of his shoulder.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Soz if you guys had hope that Edward would catch Bella. But honestly, this is so much better. ; )

I had a difficult time with this one because I wanted Bella is continue her portrayal of the innocent-prude chick. But honestly, that's really freakin' boring and I'm sure **queen****cullen0527** got bored of it too. :D And it really is hard for me to not write swear words whenever Bella is sexx0ring Officer Hottie.

To all my lovely reviewers: sorry I didn't get a chance to respond to everyone's reviews. My mobile went kaput and that's the only way I can respond to reviews at work. : ( But! I got a new temp phone until my new one comes in the mail. Weee!

Who read the preview on my blog? If you haven't heard, I do crazy shit sometimes on my blog citrus-twist[dot]blogspot[dot]com


	15. You're Addicted To Love

**A/N**: I know I said I wouldn't write long chapters, but this one has been playing in my mind for _days_. I figured that since I'm only doing weekly updates, this should be enough to help you survive til the next update. ;)

I also mention that in this chapter, I included a situation where it may be uncomfortable for some readers to read. I apologise for any stress I may cause, but it really is unintentional. I can tell you that it's not a dark theme or whatever, just… Not socially acceptable? This will make sense as you read it.

Huge thanks for **queen****cullen0527** and **Edward-Jacob4ever01**. You guys seriously rock.

Without further ado…

Music: "Secret" by Maroon 5

* * *

><p>Chapter 15: You're Addicted to Love<p>

I resent having to leave Edward's warm arms this morning, but I had to leave dreamland and go back to reality. But that didn't mean I couldn't think about how intense our sex had been the night before, or the fact that even though I had orgasmed multiple times in a row before he found his release he still managed to wake me up in the middle of the night for slow and tender lovemaking. In fact, I was currently thinking about how after he fell asleep, I whispered how much I loved him. Now I had to wait four freaking days before I got to see him for a few hours between my off day and when I start my next shift.

"Oooh Bella," Rosalie squeals, coming up behind me.

Rosalie's voice startles me, causing me to knock off the chart I was practically drooling over. She gives me an evil snicker as I bend over to pick up the chart. Thank the heavens I had the sense to wear trousers versus a skirt like Rosalie's. I wonder how she managed to shoehorn herself into that skin-tight skirt? Did she have to sew herself in like Marilyn Monroe?

"Dr. Swan," I hear, causing me to pop up and bang the top of my head on the writing platform of the nurse's station.

I curse to myself as I rub a sore spot as I stand up in front of Carlisle.

"Car—Dr. Cullen!" I exclaim, clutching the chart to my chest. Carlisle gives me a half-smile as he reaches out for my chart. I willingly hand it over, hoping that I don't further injure the poor file. "What can I do for you?"

Rosalie's standing behind Carlisle, so he can't see her winking at me.

"I was wondering if you had any plans for Christmas yet?" Carlisle asks, handing my chart to the nurse on duty with a bright smile. The nurse's face flushes as she takes the chart with shaking hands and hands him another.

Huh. So the dazzling isn't Edward specific, but may be a Cullen thing.

"Uhmmm," I say, stalling for time. I look behind Carlisle to Rosalie for help. She gives me a Chesire Cat-like smile and lifts one shoulder in a shrug. Damn her! Way to leave a sister behind! "I think working?"

I knew as soon as those words left my mouth that I was going to regret it—especially since Carlisle has a lot of say over our scheduling and he could easily make it so I had the time between Christmas and New Years off if he wanted.

"Oh, I think I can arrange for you to at least get Christmas Day off—that way, you can spend it with our family. Dr. Hale will be there as well, isn't that right Dr. Hale?" Carlisle asks, turning around to catch Rosalie quietly laughing behind her hand. Immediately she sobers up and drops her hand.

"Yes sir. I'll be there," Rosalie stammers.

"Great! Well, enjoy the rest of your day, ladies," Carlisle says, tilting his head to us before he heads into a nearby room.

I release my breathe, unaware that I was holding onto it.

"Oh my gosh, that was crazy," I admit to Rosalie, reaching over the platform to grab more of my charts.

"How so?" Rosalie asks, leading me to the dictation room at the end of the hall with her own charts. "After all, you _are_ dating Edward and he probably didn't know how to ask you to spend Christmas with his family."

"We aren't, dating per se," I mumble, flopping down on the couch. I avoid eye contact with Rosalie by burying myself into one of my charts.

"What? Yes you are!" Rosalie exclaims, dumping her charts on the coffee table and sits on an adjacent chair. They threaten to fall over, but I instinctively reach out and right the offending chart.

"We haven't really talked about it, Rose," I admit, throwing my head back onto the couch. "Besides, how are my relationships with others any of _your_ business?"

"It is if you're dating the best man of my fiancée," Rosalie smiles. "And the fact you're walking like a sore cowgirl."

"WHAT!" I shout.

"Or maybe reverse cowgirl, mmm?" Rosalie says with an evil grin.

"OH MY GOD ROSE!" I pick up a chart and whack her in the arm with it. Thankfully it's not full nor heavy, so I can't do much damage to her.

She cackles, lifting up her hand to protect herself from further assault.

"Are you for serious? Did you take your meds, Rose? I think psych can write you a new script for anti-psychotic meds!"

Rosalie laughs some more and takes the chart away from me. "Was it at least good?"

"Oh my God, Rose! I can't believe you're asking me this," I whimper, covering my now-overly-warm face with my hands. "But if you must know, yes!"

"AH! I knew it!" Rosalie howls with glee. "Tell me more!"

"Oh hell no, Rose. I don't screw and tell. Besides, I don't ask about _your_ love life."

"You could if you wanted to. I'd tell you, honestly."

I groan loudly. "Ugh this is too weird. Can we please change the subject?"

Rosalie waves a hand in a dismissive gesture. "Fine fine, but at least tell me if his cock is proportional to his shoe size?"

"Ugh, Rose. You know better!"

Rosalie laughs and leans back in her chair. "What are you doing tonight?"

"I don't know. Edward doesn't have off til Tuesday. I thought I should go home and do some cleaning and stuff," I reply, pulling a chart onto my lap to review. "Why?"

"Well cancel your boring-ass plans. We're going dancing!"

"Uhh, I don't think me drinking is going to be the best thing to do right now."

"What? Why? Are your preggers with Edward's baby?"

"WHAT? Oh my… NO! Not like it's any of your damn business!" I grab a pillow off the couch and throw it at her. She ducks at the last moment so I miss her face.

"Damn girl, you're all violent. Is it because you're all sexually frustrated?"

"Seriously! I'm so done," I stand, scooping up my charts and head to the door.

"Alice and I are coming to pick you up at 8!" Rosalie shouts as I leave. I flip my middle finger at her which causes her to cackle some more.

/ / / / M V \ \ \ \

**To: Bella Swan**

**From: Edward Masen**

**Message: What are you doing?**

**To: Edward Masen**

**From: Bella Swan**

**Message: Avoiding Rosalie and your dad. No offense.**

**To: Bella Swan**

**From: Edward Masen**

**Message: LOL. None taken. I take it Dad asked you over for Christmas? And what's with R?**

**To: Edward Masen**

**From: Bella Swan**

**Message: He did a few days ago, but it's still kinda awkward to be around him. Was surprised. Rose wants to go out tonight.**

**To: Bella Swan**

**From: Edward Masen**

**Message: Sorry. I didn't know how to ask you. **

**To: Edward Masen**

**From: Bella Swan**

**Message: It's okay. I understand. Christmas is a big deal that you do with fams.**

**To: Bella Swan**

**From: Edward Masen**

**Message: You're my family now, too.**

**To: Edward Masen**

**From: Bella Swan**

**Message: Really now? ;)**

**To: Bella Swan**

**From: Edward Masen**

**Message: Of course, silly girl. You're my girlfriend.**

**To: Edward Masen**

**From: Bella Swan**

**Message: OH really? Since when?**

**To: Bella Swan**

**From: Edward Masen**

**Message: Since, I don't know?**

**To: Edward Masen**

**From: Bella Swan**

**Message: I don't remember you asking me. ;)**

**To: Bella Swan**

**From: Edward Masen**

**Message: Be my girlfriend? Please? :) **

**To: Edward Masen**

**From: Bella Swan**

**Message: I *guess*.**

**To: Bella Swan**

**From: Edward Masen**

**Message: Haha. Be careful tonight, girlfriend.**

**To: Edward Masen**

**From: Bella Swan**

**Message: Will do, boyfriend. Call me later?**

**To: Bella Swan**

**From: Edward Masen**

**Message: You bet. xx**

/ / / / M V \ \ \ \

As threatened, Alice and Rosalie arrived at my house promptly at 8PM Monday night. It had been a while since I saw Alice in person, but I knew she's been busy these past couple of weeks with designer her new collection. Nonetheless, she was never too busy to pick out pieces of clothing that she "thought would look nice on me" and send them via her messenger boy, Riley. In fact, before I had come home, Riley was sitting in the dark sedan outside my house with the dress I was to wear that night.

I had mentioned to Alice that I had no idea what I looked like the last time we went out to Eclipse and there were very few pictures of me of that night. Alice agreed to let me see the whole transformation process and even offered to take digital pictures of the evening. When Alice and Rosalie showed up, I knew I was going to be in a lot of trouble that night. Alice was wearing a floaty mini dress in dark blue that had black embroidered flowers on it and her killer heels. Rosalie looked amazing in a white sleeveless wrap dress that twisted on one side with multiple hues of blue and, of course, her awesome heels. Me, I had on this gorgeous gold silk satin dress with a panel of embroidered lace on my chest. She loosely curled my hair so it fell in a wavy waterfall down my back. When I saw my image in the mirror, I almost cried. Alice managed to effortlessly transform me from blah-Bella to gorgeous-Bella.

We drove together in Rosalie's BMW SUV to Eclipse where Jasper was currently standing at the door for our entrance. As we pass the line of patrons who have yet to make it inside the club, I give a quiet thanks to Alice, who was sitting next to me. If she hadn't offered to help me get ready tonight, or even lend me the dress I was wearing, I would have been one of the few patrons that were being turned away at the door for not following Eclipse's strict dress code. Alice gives me a small smile and squeezes my hand before she exits the car to Jasper's waiting embrace.

Thankfully tonight is rather low-key as there were no paparazzi standing at the club's entrance so I didn't have any problems walking into the club with Rosalie's arm looped through mine. We walk to the bar for our traditional first-round drinks of tequila shots, which we both quickly drink even before Jasper and Alice make it to the bar. Jasper offers us seating in the VIP lounge again, but we both decline. I know I wanted to be closer to the action when Rosalie starts to do her alcohol-fueled drinking and provide an intervention, if necessarily.

When I see Rosalie drinking her fourth or fifth drink, I grab her clutch to take her car keys and stick to fruity non-alcoholic drinks Eric, our new-favourite bartender, created for me. Sometime during the night, Alice rejoins us and starts to do shots of vodka with Rosalie. Thankfully, Eric knew of my dilemma and filled my shotglass with water. This way, I could give the appearance to the girls that I was drinking with them without the effects of alcohol. I knew that it wouldn't be too long before Rosalie passes out. Near closing time, Rosalie and Alice were both sloshed. I had to ditch my heels so I could help support the girls as we walked out to Rosalie's car. By now, it was freezing cold and my feet were starting to feel a bit numb. The girls didn't look affected by the cold at all—probably because they stopped every so few feet and start dancing and singing like crazed maniacs. Me, I was a Bella-popsicle and eager to get inside the car.

"Living just to find emotion," Rosalie sings, loudly and off-key.

"Hiding somewhere in the niiiiiiiiiiiggghhhtttt," Alice sings back, thankfully on-key, but just as loud.

"Don't stop, beeeelieeeeevin'!" they sing together, stumbling as we near the car.

By now, I am hoping that no one is actually alive to hear Rosalie and Alice attempt to sing the chorus in sync. If it weren't so bloody cold, it would have been actually hilarious. We finally make it to the car, but Alice has a hard time climbing up into the car in her short dress. After her second attempt of trying to climb in, she gives up all sense of propriety and hastily scrambles in, giving me a full view of her naked bottom.

_Awesome_, I think to myself. _At__least__they__are__both__in__the__car._

I turn the car on, allowing it to heat up a bit before putting the car in gear. The girls are mumbling the rest of the lyrics, and before I drive onto the expressway, they are both passed out in the backseat. Blissful silence fills the car.

Being that I had no idea where Alice lived and I couldn't just drop Rosalie off at home and continue driving home, I started to head to my house where they can both crash in the spare bedrooms. Just as I am exiting the expressway, I see distinctive blue and red flashing lights behind me.

"Crap," I say, biting my lower lip. I pull over, hoping that the police car drives around me. Instead, it pulls in behind me.

"Fuckity shit," I say loudly, not even waking the dead in the backseat. I rummage through the pile of clutches and purses on the passenger seat for my own clutch so I can pull out my driver's license. Thankfully, Rosalie had told me where she stores her registration information, so I pull that out from the center console as well.

I look in my rearview mirror, hoping to catch a glimpse of the police officer as their way up to the car. Because the spotlight is shined almost directly into the side mirror, I cannot make out the facial features of the police officer as they saunter up to my window. I immediately roll it down and put my hands on the steering wheel.

"Evenin' ma'am," a low masculine voice says.

"Good evening, officer. There seems to be a problem?" I ask, handing the officer my license and registration without looking up at the officer. Have I mentioned how uncomfortable I get around police officers?

"It seems to me that you were weaving a bit back there."

CRAP.

"Oh. Sorry. It's been a long day for me," I stammer out.

"Do you think you can get out of the car, ma'am?"

"Uhh… Can I reach down to the passenger floor for my shoes?"

"Do so, slowly," he instructs, shining his Mag-Lite into the passenger floorboard.

I slowly reach down to grab my heels and put them on before I slide out of the car. Making sure my bottom is covered; I step away from the door and shut it. The harshness of the spotlight is now directly on me, making it exceptionally difficult for me to look at the police officer. Since I can't look at him, I decide to avert my gaze and look around my surroundings.

"I need you to walk a straight line, ma'am," the office instructs.

"WHAT? I'm not drunk!" I exclaim, crossing my arms across my chest. The cold has started to do all sorts of evil things to my body.

"Ma'am, please?"

"Ugh, fine," I relent, walking to the white line. I have no difficulty walking the line and even do a little twirl at the end before I turn around to come back. "There. Happy? I'm not drunk."

"Ma'am, I'm going to need you to walk slowly to the passenger side of your vehicle, with your hands up so I can see them."

"WHAT?" There's no freaking way I was going to uncross my arms. Judging on how thin the dress material was, the officer would obviously see how cold I was from my overly hard nipples.

"Ma'am…"

"Fine, whatever," I grumble, holding my hands up. My nipples become harder, almost the point of being painful. I slowly walk around the back of Rosalie's car and to the passenger side. I can't tell if the girls are awake now because the windows are so tinted, but I can tell that there's no movement coming from inside.

Before I could stop, the police officer gives me further instructions.

"Please place the palms of your hands on the side of the car."

Suddenly, panic starts to build up. This is no regular traffic stop. Being a cop's daughter, I know that police officers don't ask people to put their hands on the car for minor violations. That's usually reserved for those who are getting a pat-down or cuffed. My body starts to shake and tears silently fall from my eyes as I obey the officer. I even stand shoulder-width apart, hoping to show how cooperative I am in this situation.

"Ma'am, I'm going to have to give you a pat down. Stand perfectly still. Do you have any weapons on your person that I should know about?"

"No, sir," I say with a shaky voice.

"Alright then, here we go."

I close my eyes just as I can feel his gloved hands rest on my shoulders. They slowly go down my arms to my wrists and then to my hips. He pauses there, where I can hear ruffling behind me. The officer removes one hand, replaces it, and then removes the other. I can feel the heat of his now bare hands through the thin material of my dress. By now, tears are free-falling from my face. Although he's not touching me in a way that I feel violated, I have never felt so scared in my life. A sob unintentionally breaks free from my mouth.

"Shhh," the officer says soothingly.

Suddenly, his hands pause as he's patting my hips and hear shuffle of feet.

"Bella," a now familiar voice says.

I freeze just as a firm, warm chest touches my almost-bare back.

"Relax, I won't hurt you."

I quickly turn my head and see Edward's face, filled with concern, over my shoulder. I give a sigh of relief, knowing that I truly am not in any trouble—yet.

"Oh my God, Edward," I close my eyes and lean back slightly into the comfort of Edward's warm body. I still don't lower my arms, afraid that if I do let go of the car, I'm going to fall. "You scared the shit out of me."

"I'm sorry baby," Edward apologies, wrapping one arm around my waist. I sigh from the increased warmth. "When I saw Rosalie's car, I figured I had to see you. But I couldn't stop you for no reason because I'm still on duty. So I figured I could pull you over for drunk driving."

"So you had to make this as if it were a real traffic stop?" I ask, lowering my arms finally.

"Yeah," Edward admits. "I had no intention of doing all this to you, but when I saw you climb out of the car in this fucking gorgeous dress, I knew I couldn't keep my hands to myself."

I turn to him with a balled up fist and hit him in the shoulder as hard as I can.

"You scared…" _Hit_. "The shit outta me!" I yell as I'm hitting him. Hopefully two hard punches will be enough for him to understand how scared I was.

"OW! Okay I'm sorry!" Edward yelps, rubbing at his shoulder. "Was that really the hardest you can punch?"

As if on cue, I can feel the tingly pain sensation in my right hand. I open my hand out and try to shake out the pain. I can tell I didn't break it, but DAMN did that hurt!

"Ow, ow, ow," I say, hopping around.

"Here," Edward says as he gently grabs a hold of my hand. He examines it carefully and finally kisses my bruising knuckles. "All better?

I nod. "You _do_ realise that this is an abuse of power, right?" I say with a small smile.

"Yeah, I know. But I had to see you."

"And give me a pat-down? Was that really necessary?"

"Hey! You could be packing some serious heat. I had to make sure that I wasn't in danger," Edward says with a chuckle. "And actually, I'm technically not quite done."

"What?" I exclaim, turning to look at him a bit.

"Mmmhmm," Edward says with a devious smile. He removes his arm from my waist and rests his hand on my hips again. "Eyes forward and hands on the car, ma'am."

_Whoa.__He__sounds__for__real__now_, I think to myself. I move my feet, causing my inner thighs to rub. I can feel the dampness of my panties. _Holy__cow,__I__have__cop__fantasies!_

Edward guides my arms out so my hands are once again on Rosalie's car. Instead of feeling Edward's hands move down my legs, he moves to the front of my dress. I shiver as his hands make its way to my pubic area. One of his hands cups my pubic bone, causing the dress to bunch up between my thighs.

"Holy, fucking…shhhhhh," I moan, tilting my hips a bit to give Edward better access to between my legs.

Outside my dress, his fingers start to rub my pussy. The sensation of silky satin and my sheer panties rubbing against my sensitive clit almost causes me to climax. Edward must have sensed this because he stops.

"What? No! Keep going," I demand, missing the friction he was causing.

Edward gives me a low chuckle. Behind me, I can hear Edward shifting a bit and the indistinctive sound of a zipper being undone.

"Edward?"

"I have to, Bella, please," Edward pleads. He's asking for my permission.

I look behind and in front of the SUV and see no oncoming traffic. Seeing that no one can see us, and hoping to God that Rosalie and Alice are still asleep, I nod.

Edward lifts my dress to my hips and moves my panties aside.

"It's not going to take long," Edward says, apologetically.

"That's okay, I'm freezing anyway," I respond. Edward wraps his arm around me and slides his hand under my dress, latching onto my now bare breast. His other moves to my wet folds.

"Holy Jesus," Edward moans. "You're so wet." He rubs a finger against my throbbing clit, eliciting a throaty moan from me.

"Apparently I have dirty cop fantasies," I say when I can regain my ability to speak. "So we gonna do this or what?"

With that, Edward swiftly enters me, moaning loudly. "Fuck, you're so…ugh."

I wiggle a bit ad I adjust the fullness feeling Edward has caused. Not only do I better accommodate him, but my moving is making Edward growl. He pull his cock almost all the way out, and thrusts hard into my body before he pulls out and thrusts again. I rest my forearms against the car so I can support my upper body when I tilt my hips to allow for better access. I can feel Edward bending over my body, pressing his lips against the back of my neck.

"Nuh… Edward… I'm going to…" I pant out between thrusts.

Edward's hand painfully tightens on my breast, but causing so much pleasure for me. This is my breaking moment, causing me reach my climax only moments before Edward does. I can feel his warm seed enter my body, a feeling I didn't think would happen. We both freeze as we realise what just happened.

"Fuck shit," Edward moans, only this time in frustration. "I didn't…"

I don't say anything. Instead, I try to untangle myself from Edward. Understanding what I'm doing, Edward helps me stand, pulling my dress down over my hips.

"Christ Bella, I'm sorry," Edward says, his voice thick with emotion. "I wasn't thinking."

I turn around to face Edward. "It's okay, Edward."

"How is it okay?" he asks, running his hand roughly through his hair. "We just had sex and I didn't have a condom on! I'm so, so sorry—"

"Edward," I interrupt, reaching out to grab his arm. At the rate he is going running his hand through his hair, he will cause himself to become prematurely bald. "Stop. We're okay, alright? I'm not going to get pregnant and I trust that you're clean."

Edward stills, looking down at me with one of relief. "Really? You're on birth control?"

"Uh, not exactly," I reply, avoiding eye contact. "I think we should talk about this later though."

He swallows thickly and the look of relief is replaced with one of worry. "O…Kay? I'm off in a few hours."

"It's Tuesday, huh?"

Edward nods, shoving his hands into the pockets of his uniform pants.

I walk to the passenger and open it so I can grab my clutch. I take a quick peek into the backseat and see both Rosalie and Alice passed out, with Rosalie snoring lightly and her mouth hanging open. If she was faking sleep, she wouldn't have her mouth open—something she adamantly denies doing while sleeping. I find my clutch and pull a key out from the inside zipper pocket.

"Here," I say, holding a closed fist out to Edward.

Edward reaches out with an open hand, allowing me to drop the key into his awaiting hand. He looks at the key momentarily and looks up at me with confusion.

"It's a key to my house. Just come by as soon as you get off," I say, crossing my arms across my chest and rubbing my upper arms with my hands.

"Alright, but It'll be late." Edward still looks worried.

I walk up to him and wrap my arms around his waist, shivering from his warmth.

"I don't care. I don't sleep well without you," I admit, burying my face into Edward's chest.

I can feel Edward sigh as he wraps his arms around my shoulders. "I can't either."

I look up at him and smile before I stand on my tippy toes to press my lips against his. It's not a steamy, wet kiss, but it's enough to tell him that I am not mad at him.

"I'll see you later then, Lieutenant."

"You got it," Edward says, stepping back from me.

Just as I'm walking around the front of the car, Edward calls my name out. I turn and look at him.

"And ma'am? Let this be a warning."

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: So there you have it. ;)

EPOV of Chapter 1 has been written and is being reviewed by ze betas. But my blog has a preview. ;) When it's ready to be posted, I will have it as an outtake.

Okay Soapbox time!

If you are ever pulled over—especially really late at night and you're alone—and you know you didn't do anything, I would suggest that you do not roll your window down until you can identify if the person pulling you over is truly a cop. A real officer will not try to intimidate you with a flashlight in your eyes (unless you're Bella and the officer is Edward… Teehee!). And always, ask to see their badge if you're unsure. You also have the right to ask for backup if you still feel uncomfortable.

/end Soapbox

Stay safe, readers.


	16. Every Little Thing She Does

**A/N**: HAPPY ANNIVERSARY! 22nd October marks the 1 month anniversary of _Moving__Violations_. For this awesome event, I'm posting TWO chapters this week… Including this one, which is all EPOV and longer than my usual chapters.

Unfortunately, this isn't all happy and fluffy. But it's needed to explain stuff.

Thanks for reading. Stay awesome, readers. : )

Disclaimer: SM owns _Twilight._ I own a rockin' new pair of fuckhot boots!

Music: "My Love" by Sia

* * *

><p>Chapter 16: Every Little Thing She Does<p>

In my eagerness to see Bella again, I didn't even bother heading back to the station to shower and change when my shift was over. Instead, I just radioed Emily, our Dispatch, that I was 10-10A: off-duty and at home. Well, Bella's home. But that didn't matter.

It was still dark when I pulled into her driveway behind Rosalie's BMW. Thankfully she left the light on in her living room, so I didn't have to stumble my way around unfamiliar surroundings. I hang my uniform jacket and hat on the tree-stand near the front door and toe off my boots. After turning off the living room lights and making sure the house is all locked up, I stealthily made my way up to the second floor of her house, passing by the spare bedroom to see a passed out Rosalie and Alice both sprawled out on the bed. I snickered softly as I gently closed the door to give the girls privacy, and to muffle any sounds that Bella and I _may_ make.

As I stand in front of Bella's closed bedroom door, I take a deep breath and slowly turn the knob. The door creaks as I crack open the door. I wince, hoping that I don't wake Bella up. From the angle I'm standing in, I can't see her bed to see if she's awake or asleep. Figuring I need to get this over with one way or another, I quickly open the door and shut it behind me when I walk in.

Bella's curled up on her side, wearing one of my favourite shirts—the maroon one; the one I thought I had lost weeks ago. The soft light of the lamp on her nightstand casts a soft glow on her skin, illuminating her beauty even more. Her shoulder lifts and falls with her deep, measured breathing. As I watch her sleep, my breath catches as my heart fumbles. Such beauty, and all mine.

I take a step forward, but stop when I hear Bella murmurs something. She lets out a sigh and slowly opens her gorgeous brown eyes. She frowns a bit as she looks at the clock on the nightstand before she turns onto her back. I freeze, unsure if she has seen me or not, until her eyes fall on mine.

"Edward," she says sleepily as she sits up into a sitting position. "When did you get here?"

"Just a few minutes ago," I say softly. "Go back to sleep, baby."

Bella's eyes close as she starts to recline back. Suddenly, she bolts upright and looks at me—with wide eyes.

"Holy shit, Edward!" she exclaims, wincing as she hears her too-loud voice.

"Uhhh…" I say, shifting my weight on my feet. "Problem?"

"Edward," she says in a softer voice. "You're still dressed!"

"Oh sorry," I say uneasily. Was I suppose to be naked? "I came straight over after my shift was over."

Bella sits back, using her arms to prop her upper body up. She gives me a devious smile. "Mmm. I don't think I've ever seen you wearing your uniform… I mean, without being pulled over."

I chuckle as I reach to my belt buckle, intending to remove my heavy gun belt.

"Wait!" she gasps. I still my movements. "Go slowly."

I lift an eye brow and look at her. Gone is the sleep from her eyes. Instead, one of lust has replaced it. Her cheeks are high in colour, but very becoming of her. It dawns on me the fact that she is actually turned on with the fact that I'm wearing a uniform. Huh. I guess cop fantasies do exist.

Never one to disappoint, I unbuckle my belt. Before I rest in on the floor, I reach into the holster and slowly pull my gun out.

"I have to take the magazine out, babe," I explain as her gaze widens. "Just to be safe."

She watches me as I unload the magazine from my gun. I empty it of the rounds, just to be on the safeside, and deposit the ammo into an empty pocket on my gun belt. The gun I replace back into my holster, the magazine on her dresser, and the belt in her closet.

I move back to the end of her bed when I feel that my gun is secure and look at my sweet Bella. Her mouth is slightly open and the flush on her cheeks have now spread to the tips of her ears. Damn she looks beautiful. Her legs are now bent so her flats of her feet are pressing into her mattress. From this view, I can tell that her bottom half is very naked. This image alone is enough to wake my cock and have him stand at attention. Bella smiles, probably seeing the massive tent I now have in the front of my pants.

I clear my throat and start to unbutton my uniform shirt. Although I want to really just rip the damn thing off my body, Bella's request for me to go slow overrules my desire to get naked now. As I make it to the fourth or fifth button, Bella leans forward and gets on her hands and knees.

FUCK! I almost cream my boxer shorts as she slowly crawls to the end of the bed. When she reaches to the foot of the bed, she sits back on her knees and urges me to walk towards her with a crook of her finger and a slow wink. I step towards her and allow her to take over unbuttoning my shirt while I unzip my pants. She slides her hand under my shirt and muscle tank. Feeling her warm hand graze my abs, I drop my pants with a soft _thud_ on the floor.

Unable to contain myself any longer, I cup her cheeks with my hands and tilt her head up. As she makes eye contact with me, I lean down and softly kiss her awaiting mouth, sucking on her lower lip. She immediately opens her mouth, giving my tongue access to hers. Her other hand makes it way under my shirt and onto my hip. She pulls me towards her as she makes her way onto her back. I fumble from my pants around my ankles. Without breaking contact, I step out of my pants and move to straddle her straightened legs. She tugs on my shirt, wordlessly indicating that she wants it off of me. I break apart from our kiss to take off my uniform and muscle tee off. I move a hand to the hem of her shirt and reach under to find her full breast. She gasps as I roll her pebbled nipple between my fingers.

"Ughh, Edward," she moans, closing her eyes briefly.

I push her shirt up to her neck, baring her breasts and dark coral-coloured nipples. As I lean forward, I groan—smelling the warm skin between her breasts. Bella wiggles a bit under me to take her shirt all the way off. Realising what she is doing, I help her and toss the offending shirt onto the floor. Her small hand moves to my hip and under the waistband of my boxers.

"Wait," I say, breathlessly. "If you take my boxers off, I'll want to bury myself deep inside you."

Bella bites her lower lip and gives me a playful look. We both can feel my cock twitch between us. "I think someone wants to come out to play," she says with a smile.

Fuck this. I leap off the bed and strip my boxers off quickly, carefully minding my erection. When it springs out of the confines of my boxers, Bella gasps. I look at her.

"What?" I ask, a little unsure of myself. Is something wrong?

"You're… gorgeous," she says in awe.

I smile at her as I move back onto the foot of her bed. "And you're beautiful."

She gives me a soft smile, pulling me down onto her body. I comply and use my hands to help support my weight off of her. I lean down and kiss her neck and shoulder, making my way down to her erect nipple. When I close my mouth around her nipple, she lets out a huge breath. She throws one of her arms out to the side and the other wraps around my neck and shoulders. I suck and pull on her nipple with my teeth as her body moves under mine. One of her leg wraps around my upper legs, pressing her hot pussy against my thigh and trapping my erection against my stomach. I can already feel her wetness.

"God Bella, that feels so fucking good," I mumble around her nipple as she is slowly grinding her hips against my thigh. "But I'm going to make it better."

I release the suction I have on her nipple and move down her body, kissing her ribcage, stomach and hips. She releases her legs from my own, letting one thigh rest flat on the bed and the other propped up. I skim a hand down her hip to her knee, hooking my fingers behind it and lifting it to my shoulder.

"Wha? Edward?" Bella says in a haze.

"Just relax, baby," I coax, using my finger to circle her swollen clit. With each swirl, I can smell the fragrant aroma of Bella's desire, causing me to salivate in eagerness. I lean forward with the intention of sucking her clit when she stills.

"Wait, Edward!" Bella gasps.

I still my movement and look up at her. She's looking down at me with a panicked look. I can feel that she's trying to close her legs off to me but is unable to because of how I have her positioned.

"Baby? What's wrong?" I ask, moving up from between her legs and lowering her leg from my shoulder. Her legs clamp shut.

Bella gives a huff and throws her arm across her face. "Oh my…Fuucccck!"

Now I'm totally confused and a little scared. Bella's chest is rapidly rising and falling with short, shallow breaths. I'm not sure of what to do, so I reach out and softly pull her arm away from her face. She relents, allowing me to see the silent tears streaming down her face. An uncomfortable ache fills my chest.

"Oh Bella, honey," I say. I gently pull her up and to my chest, cradling her head on my shoulder. I run my hand on her head, trying to comfort her the best way I can. I've been able to handle anxiety-attack Bella, but this is Bella in pain—a new situation that I am unsure of how to remedy.

I let her cry, although I desperately wish she could tell me what has gotten her so upset so we can share in her pain. After a few silent moments, I feel her shoulders stop shaking.

"Are you okay?" I ask timidly.

I feel her shake her head no.

"Please tell me what's wrong?"

She takes a deep breath and lifts her head off my shoulder. "I'm afraid… To tell you."

"Tell me what, baby?"

"I'm afraid to tell you something…Because if I do, you're going to leave."

I swallow with great difficulty. This doesn't sound good. But I can't tell her how I _can__'__t_ leave her. The pain of just being away from her for work is bad enough. "No sweetie. I won't leave."

"You promise?" she asks with a shaky voice.

"Yes."

She takes another deep breath and looks right at me. "I can't have kids."

I don't say anything because I can tell she wants me to hear her out before I respond.

"I was dating this guy… Jake. And we were trying to have a baby—before I started my residency. Except, we…couldn't. He went to the doctors to see if there was anything wrong with him and they found… That nothing was wrong."

As she's telling me this, she pulls away from me and tucks her knees to her chest. She avoids looking at me, and instead is focused on the bedspread underneath her feet.

"He told me that it wasn't a big deal, except that I can tell it was. Because later on, I find out that he's moving out from our apartment in Seattle to move into one of his own."

I try to speak, but the words are lodged in my throat. I feel my heart ache for Bella's pain.

"So you see, that's why I wasn't freaking out about not having a condom earlier. It wouldn't have made a difference because I _can__'__t_ get pregnant."

She balls up a fist and suddenly hits it on her bed. "I can't…" _HIT._"Have…" _HIT_. "Kids."

I quickly reach out and grab her fist, afraid that she'll truly hurt herself physically to balance out the pain she's undoubtedly having inside. Instead, I gently pull her towards me. She doesn't struggle, causing the small ache in my chest to bloom.

"It's okay, sweetie," I murmur into her hair. I run my hand down her side and rest it on her hip. "Really, it is."

"No, it's not, Edward. You _deserve_to be with someone _whole_," she says with anger and frustration. "Someone who can give you green-eyed, bronze-haired children. Lots of them."

Even though she's not trying to be funny, I chuckle anyway. The whole concept of me having mini-me's is somewhat frightening and way daunting. I'm pretty fucked up as it is, but to will that onto another person?

"Having green-eyed, bronze-haired children means nothing to me if you're not their mother," I say. Fuck, that sounded wrong. "I mean," I stammer, hoping to recovery quickly. "I don't care to have children if I can't be with you."

Bella looks up at me with wide eyes. "What?"

I gaze down at her and hope what I'm about to say will convey how much I want this woman in my life—forever. "I'm trying to say is that since I would rather have you, it doesn't matter if I have children. We can adopt—like Carlisle and Esme. I'm sure there are loads of children that need homes. I mean, look at Angelina and Brad. They have a whole United Nations of children."

Bella giggles at my last statement and sighs heavily. "Oh Edward, what are we going to do?"

"Well, I think we should get some rest and if you want, we can talk about this more tomorrow," I suggest, wrapping my arms around her small waist. "What do you think about that?"

Bella nods, wiping her eyes from any residual tears. "That sounds great."

With that, Bella pulls away from me to lie down on her side of the bed. I move to the other side and lift the bedclothes to climb in beside her. When we both get comfortable, she reaches to her nightstand and turns off the lamp. She immediately scoots her back to my chest so I can spoon her. After her admission earlier, I feel the need to see her face—even though there is not enough light for me to clearly see her features.

"Turn around," I firmly tell her, moving my body a bit away so she has room to rotate her body. She turns so we're facing each other. I reach out and cup her cheek and wrap my other arm around her waist.

"Thank you for telling me," I say with sincerity. "I know it was hard, but I appreciate you sharing that information with me."

Bella sighs. "I was worried that it was too early for me to tell you… And I didn't want to freak you out with the 'let's have kids' talk." I feel her hand stroking my forearm.

I snort. "I was more freaked out by your reaction earlier than anything."

Bella laughs softly. "Yeah, sorry about that."

We lie there in silence for a few minutes. I know she hasn't fallen asleep yet because she's still running her hand up and down my arm.

"Hey Edward?" she asks softly.

"Mmm?" I reply, pulling her closer to me. Her warm breath caresses my chest, causing me to shiver slightly.

"You know what this means, right?"

"What's that, love?"

"That means you can go bareback again," she says with a smile in her voice. "I mean, that if you ever wanted to."

"Uggh woman," I moan, pressing my hardening cock against her stomach.

"What do you say?"

I emit a low growl from my throat as I quickly sit up and move between her legs. Using my fingers, I am able to find her pussy—still wet and always warm. "Fuck Bella, you're already for me?"

"Always," she replies, wrapping a leg around my hip.

I use her wetness to coat the head and shaft of my ready cock. Even though she may be wet and waiting for me at her entrance, I don't want to chance hurting her when I plunge my dick into her warm pussy.

"Oh my….Ugggh!" Bella moans as I tap the head of my cock against her clit. I can feel her clit throb, making my cock impossibly harder. "S-s-stop teaaaasing me."

After my cock is well lubricated, I move the head to her entrance and slowly bury myself into her, feeling her tightness envelope me.

"FUCK! You're so…TIGHT," I moan.

It doesn't take us long to establish a frantic rhythm with her eager hips meeting my own as I thrust forward. Hearing her sexy whimpers and her demands of fucking her harder gives me fuel to fuck her harder. Just as I thought we'd never seek the blissful release we wanted, her walls tighten around my cock, creating beautiful friction for my cock as she shouts out my name as she goes over the edge. Almost immediately after, I groan—much too loud—her name before the tight feeling low in my abdomen take hold. Feeling my cum release into her rather than a condom was an amazing feeling that I will never take for granted.

As I still my movements, I can feel the cool air dry the light sheen of sweat on my back and hear her uneven breathing try to slow down. Even though my cock enjoys being surrounded by Bella, I pull my softening dick out—surprised that I'm already hardening up. I haven't had this stamina in…Well, ever. I feel our warm cum drip out of her pussy. Oh shit. Forgot about that problem.

I move off the bed quickly and shuffle my way to her bathroom. Thankfully the moon has made an appearance and I can see a set of folded towels on a stand next to her shower. I grab a handtowel and dampen it with warm water from her faucet. I make my way over to Bella, who has closed her legs together.

"Spread 'em," I command lightly. She obeys without hesitation, giggling.

With soft strokes, I wipe our cum off of her thighs and pussy. She sighs, wriggling her bottom a bit.

"I guess that's one good thing about using condoms," I say with a chuckle as I get off the bed to put the cloth in the sink.

"Yeah, but I liked feeling _all_ of you without any barriers. And it felt so…Warm, when you came inside of me," Bella purrs.

When I hear that, I fumble and drop the cloth on the floor. Okay that's really fucking gross, but thankfully she has wood floors.

"Ahhh, that was pretty hot," I stammer, reaching down to pick up the cloth again. "Except I dropped the cloth on the floor."

"Whatever, just hurry back," she says in a lazy, but sexy voice. My cock eagerly responds, indicating that we may need another washcloth later on.

I don't need to be told twice.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Yeah, sad. But it gives you a little backstory of Bella. It sucks that Jacob was such a douche, but not everyone can have happy endings. Edward took the news rather well, right? ;)

And I know I said this was going to be like 12-15 chapters originally. But I'm having a great time writing this story. I can tell you that the next few chapters are going to move kinda fast, which means this story will be complete soon.

If you haven't already noticed, but I posted an EPOV of chapter 1 already. It's listed as a new story that you can access in my writer profile.

Teaser for Chapter 17 will be up on my blog (citrus-twist[dot]blogspot[dot]com) sometime soon. ;) Keep an eye out or follow me on Twitter (needacoffeeIV) for news!


	17. Running Up That Hill

**A/N**: Get your tissues on, ladies. Cause here's where it gets hurt/comfort/angst/whatever.

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight. But I do own a warehouse sized package of Kleenex.

Music: "Save the World Tonight" by Swedish House Mafia  
>"Without You Here" by Goo Goo Dolls<p>

* * *

><p>Chapter 17: Running Up That Hill<p>

The days after my admission went surprisingly fast. I thought it would be awkward seeing Edward after I admitted the fact I wasn't whole, but if anything else, he showered me with more affection. We weren't able to spend nights together because of our crazy opposite schedules, but he stopped by when he could and I'd try and eat a meal with him in the cafeteria or have a coffee break. It wasn't the most ideal courtship, but it worked for us because we knew that once we had a few hours alone—well, use your imagination.

To help us ease our longing for each other, we exchanged numerous text messages and, at times, pictures. One of my favourites was one of Edward with his duty belt, and only his duty belt. I had to change my panties after seeing this particular picture, which I told him with a picture of my panties. The next picture he sent was a close-up of his groin area—duty belt and full erection.

"This is what happens when you tell me about your wet panties," the picture caption said.

That morning, I arrive to work to see a small vase of roses in my locker. There weren't many flowers, but then again my locker isn't huge. The smell alone was divine, but the bouquet was absolutely gorgeous and perfect.

"Oooh, someone's got a lover!" Rosalie says in a teasing voice. "Open the card, open the card!"

I smile at Rosalie's enthusiasm. Normally, I would want to open the card in private, but since Rosalie would never stop hounding me, I figure why not read the card out loud.

"To my beautiful Bella: My heart is ever at your service.* With love and adoration, Edward"

_Love_. That's the first time either of us have said it to the other. My heart swells with happiness, and I let out a little squeak of pleasure.

"AW! Why doesn't Emmett send me flowers and pretty cards at work?" Rosalie pouts.

"Hey, at least you can see him every night!" I retort.

"Oh touché, my friend."

I quickly change out of my street clothes and into my scrubs. I'm hoping that I will have a few minutes to text Edward to let him know about the flowers.

"What's your rush, lover girl?" Rosalie asks as she sees me fumbling with my shoelaces.

"I want to text Edward before rounds," I say as I try to tie my shoes for the third time.

"Oh let me do it!" Rosalie says with exasperation. She kneels at my feet and quickly ties my shoelaces. "Go girl. And I'll pull Dr. H out for a consult if you're late."

"Thanks Rose! You're the best!" I hug Rosalie and grab my Blackberry out of my purse before running out of the locker room and into the stairwell nearby.

**To: Edward Masen  
><strong>**From: Bella Swan  
><strong>**Message: Thank you for the flowers. They are lovely. 3**

**To: Bella Swan  
><strong>**From: Edward Masen  
><strong>**Message: You're welcome, love.**

There's that love thing. Wait, he's called me that before. Huh. I wonder if I'm just oblivious to these things.

**To: Edward Masen  
><strong>**From: Bella Swan  
><strong>**Message: See you for lunch?**

**To: Bella Swan  
><strong>**From: Edward Masen  
><strong>**Message: I'll try. Seth & I are out doing patrols. I'll let you know later?**

**To: Edward Masen  
><strong>**From: Bella Swan  
><strong>**Message: Be safe.**

**To: Bella Swan  
><strong>**From: Edward Masen  
><strong>**Message: I will. Love.**

I freeze, unsure of what to do. I want to text him back, but I don't know if he's declaring his love to me, or if he's using another petname. UGH! Why is this so difficult to understand?

Instead of stressing myself out further, I pocket my phone and rush off to find my attending, Dr. Hunter. I find him standing at one of the nurse's station talking to Rosalie. As I walk closer, I realise that he's not actually looking at her, but rather her breasts—and not even trying to hide his lust. _Pig_.

I clear my throat loudly, hoping to get Dr. Hunter's attention. Rosalie stops talking and turns to look at me with pleading eyes. Dr. Hunter, however, does not turn to me.

"Dr. Hunter?" I ask, shifting my feet. When he doesn't respond, I raise my voice. "Dr. Hunter!"

"Oh, there you are, Dr. Swan. I was just—uh, consulting with Dr. Hale about a difficult case she has," Dr. Hunter says with a wink to Rosalie. He grabs his own charts and dumps them in my arms.

_The __fuck?_ I think to myself.

Rosalie rolls her eyes and grabs her chart off the nurse's station and walks off. Unfortunately for her, Dr. Hunter doesn't notice Rosalie's frustration and starts to walk with me down the hall. I try to keep up with him, but the weight of the charts plus his long strides makes it difficult for me to keep up. Nonetheless, he continues talking about his patients as if I were walking beside him.

_Arrogant __shit_, I mentally mutter. _You__'__re __probably __talking __because __you __like __to __hear __the __sound __of __your __own __voice!_

"Mrs. Meyer was admitted late last night with…" Dr. Hunter drones on as we enter Mrs. Meyer's room.

This is going to be a long day.

/ / / / M V \ \ \ \

To my dismay, Edward doesn't text me for the rest of the day. Usually he at texts or sends me a picture several times throughout my shift. And he didn't text me about lunch. I try to quell the uneasy feeling I have in my stomach with the reminder that Edward had said he would be busy today. This helps a little, but still.

A few hours before my shift is over, I am sitting in the residents lounge with Rosalie when we both get 911 pages from the pit.

"Gdamnit!" Rosalie shouts, hitting her balled up fist on the table. "I'm going to be late for my date with Emmett!"

"You guys are still doing the date night?" I ask, balling up my napkin and the rest of my uneaten sandwich.

"Not anymore, apparently," Rosalie mutters, leading the way out of the lounge. We run into a few more residents rushing in the same direction. Huh. This will be interesting. Normally we don't get a huge rush of trauma patients in the emergency room, or ED, because we're only a level-II trauma center and all of the serious cases go to Mt. Sinai, a much larger medical center and a level-I.

Dr. Weber, the attending in charge of the emergency department, meets all the residents and available attendings at the ED nurse's station. Many of the residents nearby are discussing their confusion on what's going on. Someone mentions that she heard on the news that something happened downtown, but no one else is able to verify this claim.

"Alright guys, listen up!" she shouts, instantly ending the buzzing of chatter. "I need you guys to all listen carefully because it's going to get a chaotic here in a bit."

Rosalie and I look at each other with dread. Okay, so no drill. What then?

"There has been an incident downtown today."

Rosalie and I both gasp. Others around us have similar reactions. A few chime up and begin to ask questions.

"What happened?" "What's going on?"

The sense of dread that was niggling in the back of my mind now has completely emerged. Something bad has happened to Edward, and I don't know what to do.

"I don't know all the details, but I can tell you that in about 7-minutes, we will be getting a _lot_of patients," Dr. Weber shouts again, silencing the room. "Mt. Sinai already has a full house, and will be directing ambulances to Rush. So it's all hands on deck. If you're not already attending to an emergency of your own, you're with me. In the meantime, I'm going to break you guys up into groups."

I numbly stand there, hearing the drone of organised chaos begin around me. I vaguely hear Rosalie tell me that she's going somewhere, but I can't hear her. It feels like my ears have been blocked up with cotton—I can hear voices, but I can't understand them. Suddenly, a warm hand envelopes my own frozen one.

"Bella?"

I dumbly turn to the speaker, and see Carlisle's concerned face looking down at me.

"I need you to come with me. You're assigned to me," Carlisle clarifies with a soft voice.

Seeing his face snaps me back into the present and future. I look around and see residents all wearing yellow isolation gowns and gloves. Many of them are pushing carts of medical supplies to stock up rooms and beds. Some of the patients have arrived—some with burns. I hear Dr. Weber directing the EMTs and doctors to various areas of the ED.

I feel Carlisle touching my hand again to guide me away and into a still empty room.

"Dr. Swan," Carlisle says as he quietly shuts the door. "I think it would be best if you head home."

"What?" I exclaim. "But Dr. Weber said that all available doctors need to be helping."

Carlisle roughly runs a hand through his normally styled blonde hair and sighs. Whatever he's about to say, I don't want to hear. I want to go and help, and eventually call Edward to find out where he is.

"Dr. Swa—Bella," Carlisle says wearily. "I don't know how to tell you this."

_Thump _goes my heart to my chest. This isn't real.

"But Edward…"

"NO!" I shout.

"Edward's been shot," Carlisle says in a near whisper.

"Stop it, Carlisle!" I yell at him, clenching my fists to my sides. "Stop lying to me!"

"Bella…" Carlisle says. I notice the tears welling up in his eyes, only because mine are still surprisingly dry. "I didn't know if I should tell you—but I couldn't risk you finding out by seeing him without knowing."

The truth finally hits me, and I stumble back against the empty bed behind me.

"He's…Coming here?" I ask in a shaky voice. "What? When?"

"In about two minutes," Carlisle answers. "But I don't want you to be there."

"NO! CARLISLE! I _have_ to be there!" I plead, pushing myself off the table and stand in front of Carlisle, gripping the lapels of his lab coat with my hands. My hands go blood-white. "Please don't make me go. Pleeeassseeee."

"Bella, I need you to be focused. You are one of my best residents," Carlisle explains, gripping my upper arms with his hands. "But if you see him, you'll be a mess."

"But, but…" I stammer, shaking.

"I know you love my son," Carlisle interrupts. "But I need to focus on taking care of Edward."

I hold my breath, understanding what Carlisle is telling me. He'll be the one to take care of Edward. He's the freaking Chief and will be overseeing Edward's care. If anything, Edward will be in the best care possible. I nod, lowering my hands off of his now wrinkled coat. Carlisle pulls me into a comforting hug. When I feel the roughness of his lab coat and…Wetness? I realise that tears have begun to pour down my cheeks.

"Take your time to compose yourself. I will page you when you can come out to the pit," Carlisle runs his hand in comfort on the back of my head.

"Yes, sir," I sniff, wiping my eyes before pulling out of his embrace.

He steps back and places a hand on the door handle.

"And Bella?" he asks.

"Yes?"

"Don't look for me. That is an order from your chief of surgery."

"Yes sir."

"I mean it. If I hear that you are looking for me or Edward, I _will_ kick you out of the program for insubordination."

Before I can respond, Carlisle exits the room and shuts the door behind him. I release the breath I had been unintentionally holding and will myself not to cry anymore. It's hard, especially since Carlisle's news totally blindsided me.

_Edward __needs __me __to __be __strong_, I tell myself. I straighten my shoulders and wipe away any residual tears under my eyes. After a few moments, I am able to compose myself just as my pager goes off. Taking a deep breath, I exit my room of solitude into a room full of chaos.

_I__can__do__this_, I mentally chant to myself.

/ / / / M V \ \ \ \

For the next few hours, it was all hands on deck. If a doctor wasn't working with a patient, they were going from doctor to doctor to make sure they are didn't need help or supplies. No longer did we have the lackeys and minions running for supplies. Everyone was doing their part to help.

I had sewn up so many gashes, removed glass from wounds, removed a few bullets and tended to burns that I became distant. The smell of burned flesh and blood was just overwhelming that when I was able to, I stepped out into the ambulance bay to breathe in the cold, fresh air. I saw Jessica Stanley sitting on the wet pavement nearby, dry-heaving into the bushes.

"Jessica? Are you okay?" I ask with genuine concern as I walk over to her.

"Dr. Swan?" she asks weakly, looking up at me with pleading eyes.

I crouch next to her and pull her long hair away from her face.

"Why is this happening?" Jessica asks in a small voice. "What did all those people do wrong?"

"It's not about right or wrong, Jess. It's just about being at the wrong place at the wrong time."

Jessica nods, wiping tears away from her eyes. "I just feel so bad for all those people."

"I know you do. And there's not much we can do about our feelings. We have to push them aside and help them in the best way we know how," I explain in a soothing voice.

"I guess so. I'm sorry you had to see me like this."

"We all have our breaking point. I'm sure you've been doing well so far."

Jessica takes a deep breath and rises to a standing position. I reach into my coat pocket and pull out a small unopened water bottle that someone had given me during the night.

"Drink this," I instruct. "It'll help you feel better."

Jessica nods and takes the water bottle. "Thanks Dr. Swan."

I give her a smile and turn on my heel to get back to my patient.

"Dr. Swan?"

I stop and look over my shoulder at Jessica.

"I'm sorry about being a bitch to you."

I give her a small smile and a nod, and walk back into the medical center.

/ / / / M V \ \ \ \

When we have all of our patients taken care of, I walk into an empty hallway that staff use for extra beds. Rosalie and a few other residents are already there with a few boxes of Chinese takeout, pizza, bottles of soda, and plastic cups. The meal is a somber moment and quiet. Discussions are short and whispered. But overall, everyone looks well—aside from the pale faces and the lack of eating.

"Bella!" Rosalie shouts, sliding off one of the beds. "Em brought a bunch of food for us. Come join us."

I wearily walk over to the empty spot next to Rosalie and scoot on next to her. She hands me a box of Chinese food and a pair of chopsticks.

"I saved some veggie lo-mein for you," Rosalie says as she picks up a slice of pizza from a box.

I eye the box in my hand wearily, unsure if I can choke a few bites down my throat with food. Knowing that I still need to keep myself strong, I tear open the lid and dig my chopsticks in. With that, everyone else opens their takeout boxes or grabs a slice a pizza and start to eat. We normally regard each other as colleagues and perhaps acquaintances. But after a rough day like today, it's almost as if we are more like a family than anything else. And families eat together in times of hardship.

The food is thankfully still warm, which is such a comfort after being in a near-frozen state since hearing about Edward. Carlisle hasn't paged nor texted me about any updates—which means that he's either still in surgery with Edward or he is waiting until the chaos died down before telling me any bad news. Then again, no news is good news as bad news travels faster than the good.

"I heard what happened," Rosalie murmurs to me. "I mean about…Edward."

I continue to chew my food, even though it no longer tastes good nor gives me comfort. I don't want to get hysterical in front of my friends and colleagues.

"Have you heard anything?"

"Nope," I reply after swallowing my food. I set aside my takeout box, feeling somewhat ill. "Have you?"

"Nah. I don't even know where Carlisle is," Rosalie states after a few thoughtful chews of food. "I know he's not in OR 1, 3 or 4 because I've been in those tonight."

"I've been stuck in the pit all day," I admit. "But it doesn't matter anyway because Carlisle told me that I couldn't look for him or Edward."

"What! Why?"

Rosalie's outburst causes the rest of the group to look at us with questioning glances. I shrug my shoulders, feigning innocence. We sit in silence for a while longer when all of a sudden, I can feel my coat pocket vibrate.

I immediately reach down and grab my phone out of my pocket, unsure if I truly want to read the missed text message.

**To: Bella Swan  
><strong>**From: Carlisle Cullen  
><strong>**Message: Come to room 321 when you can.**

I pocket my phone with shaking hands and look at Rosalie.

"Was that him?" she asks with teary eyes.

"Yes," I reply in a voice barely-above a whisper. "He wants me to come to room 321 'when I can'."

"Well that's good, right? Because if it were bad, he'd want you there ASAP."

I shrug before sliding off the bed. Rosalie slides off and stands in front of me. She wipes away a fallen tear off her face.

"Call me if you need me," Rosalie offers, giving me a huge hug.

I take a deep breath before walking down the hall to the nearest elevator. When the doors slide open with a _ping!_, I lean against an elevator wall, glad that it's able to hold me up when I no longer can do so on my own. I run through possible scenarios of what I'm about to see, keeping the positive ones in the forefront of my mind. Because I am at a loss of what outcomes are possible, I divert my thoughts to memories of us—Edward smiling, Edward sleeping… Edward looking at me with such love in his eyes that even though he's not here, my heart swells nonetheless. A tear falls from my eyes and onto my clasp hands.

The elevator door _pings!_open and I step out with my shoulders thrown back and my head up. Even though I'm shaking on the inside, I try to maintain composure and a look of strength on the outside. I don't know what I'm about to face, but I don't want to be a hot mess if Edward is completely okay. Slowly making my way to room 321, I pause before turning the door handle. I inhale deeply and whisper a small prayer.

_Please, __let __him __be __okay_.

I open the door and stand in the doorway, frozen at the sight before me.

And then I fall to my knees and cry.

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><p><strong>AN**: Some of you may be really upset with me on how things are… But don't be mad. I only ask that you **trust ****me**. Really. I won't let you guys down in the end.

If you ask me about what the "incident" is, please know that I'm not going to answer. America has enough tragedy that I don't need to be making one up for my creative leisure. If you need _something_, use your own imagination.

Reviewers will get sneak peeks of Chapter 18! Also: please check out my blog, citrus-twist[dot]blogspot[dot]com about some exciting information! I also have a banner! Link is in my profile and on my blog, thanks to the lovely **TKegl**!

FIC RECS. Yay.

MP: "Our Yellow House" by **CaraNo**. Joined at the hip since kindergarten, Edward and Bella shared it all, and at the age of 22, they were happily married, expecting their first child. But when Bella was 4 months pregnant, she was kidnapped. That was 3 years ago - HEA? Yes, I promise.

QC0527: "Barista Training" by **eDWards. headboard** (take out the space) . Bella, a thirty-two year old divorcee, meets a twenty-three year old barista with no skills in the sex department. Can he be trained to be a good lover?

E-J4E01: "Loner" by **Nilla79**. All Human. Edward Cullen was a loner, an outcast. He clearly hated everybody, including himself. He was not a nice person. So, why was I so drawn to him? And why did I get the crazy feeling he felt the same way?

*: I wish I could say this quote is mine, but alas… It is William Shakespeare's.


	18. Open Your Eyes

**A/N**: Sorry it's taken me FOREVER to update this story. Totally not my intention at _all_. When I returned from the Thanksgiving holiday, my laptop was stolen—which included my outlines of this chapter and subsequent chapters, along with a half-written chapter 18. ;_; But I'll keep y'all up to date with Twitter updates (needacoffeeIV).

Thanks for sticking around with me. I love you all HARD.

Music: "Open Your Eyes" by Andrew Belle

"Breathe Again" by Sara Bareilles

* * *

><p>Chapter 18: Open Your Eyes<p>

"Bella!"

Ow. What the hell? Why does my head hurt?

"She's coming to," a familiar voice says with relief. "Bella sweetie? Open your eyes."

My eyes flutter open and slide immediately shut. The overhead lights are too bright and making my head hurt even more.

"She opened her eyes, Carlisle," the voice said. I feel a soft, warm hand stroke my face. "Bella honey, you need to open your eyes."

I struggle to open my eyes again—now prepared for the onslaught of the florescence. Thankfully the lights aren't as bright this time, making it so much easier for me to keep my eyes open. When they open, I focus on a fuzzy brown blob hovering over me. I rapidly blink, clearing my vision on a very worried Esme.

"Oh, Bella honey. You fainted."

_Wait what? _I think to myself. What happened? The last thing I remembered was crying.

"Wait, what?" I repeat this time out loud.

Esme turns her gaze to her side. I follow and see that I'm lying on the floor with Carlisle standing near the bed.

"OH MY GOD!" I shout, sitting up—too quickly. I remember everything—the incident, the patients, Edward… And seeing him hooked up to a multitude of machines. The blood rushes to my head, causing me to feel dizzy. I clutch my hand to my head. "Ow."

"Here Bella," Esme says, giving me a plastic cup of water. "Drink this."

I rise from the floor to a stand, wobbling a bit as I get my feet steady underneath me. When I am manage to stand without falling on my ass, I gratefully take the cup and take a small sip from the straw as I stare at Edward. If it weren't for the _beep-beep-beep_ noise of his numerous monitors, I would have thought the worse.

_He's alive! _I shout in joy to myself. I quickly look over his body and I can feel the bubble of excitement that I had moments ago begun to deflate.

His skin tone is much, much too pale—paler than normal. In some areas of his face, bruises have welled up, marring his complexion. Most of his body is covered with a pale blue blanket. Aside from the small cuts on his cheeks and forehead and the bruising, I would have thought that Edward had just fallen into a deep slumber. I reach down and carefully wrap my fingers around his bared and bandaged wrist, sighing as I feel his steady pulse and warm skin.

My lower lip trembles as the events of that day replay in my mind. I look up to Carlisle, wondering what had happened.

He understands my unspoken conversation and clears his throat.

"Edward is okay. He was shot in the abdomen and nicked his liver," Carlisle explains. "He also suffered from quite a few superficial bumps and scrapes."

He doesn't continue.

"Okay so…?" I prod, urging him to go on.

"OH! He just got out of surgery not too long ago, so the anesthesia hasn't worn off completely yet. All the recovery rooms were occupied so I brought him here. He should come to within the half hour."

"So he's okay?" I ask timidly.

"Yes, he's okay," Carlisle says with a half-smile.

"Can…I stay with him?" I rub small circles with my thumb on Edward's forearm, hoping that he knows I'm there.

Carlisle and Esme exchange a meaningful glance. My stomach drops when I realise that this meaningful glance cannot end well for me, as Esme's eyes brighten with unshed tears. She gives Carlisle a small nod and turns to me.

"Bella, sweetie," Esme says in a soothing voice. She walks over to me and places her hand on my shoulder. Yes, this definitely does not bode well for me. "Before Edward had his surgery, he was asking about you."

My thumb stops circling as my mouth drops, as well as the still-nearly-full-cup of water. I feel the cup fall directly on the top of my right shoe, instantly dampening it. "R-r-really? What did he say?"

"He said," Esme pauses and takes a deep breath. "To not worry about him."

"What?" I ask in a small voice. "What's that supposed to mean?" I ask a little louder.

"Bella, he doesn't want you to be here," Carlisle explains with sadness. "And he doesn't want you to worry about him."

"He…doesn't want me…?" I say in a voice barely above a whisper, slowly drawing my hand off of Edward's arm and onto my stomach.

Esme gives me a heartbroken look, lips pressed into a tight line.

"He didn't say that, per se," Esme says carefully. "I don't think he wants you to see him the way he is now."

I nod dumbly, unsure of how I would sound if I opened my mouth to respond. Crossing my arms across my stomach, I feel the prickle of unshed tears. Not wanting to let Esme and Carlisle see me lose my shit, I stand up straighter and move to walk out the door. My wet right shoe squeaks against the tiled floor.

"Bella?" Esme quietly calls out.

I pause, taking a deep breath, and look over my shoulder at Esme.

"I _will_ text you if things do change."

I give Esme a sad smile before exiting the room, letting the door click softly behind me.

/ / / / M V \ \ \ \

The next few days, to say the least, are torturous. Under normal circumstances, I would have greatly enjoyed the two days off I had after Edward's accident as I would have spent those days with Edward. But being off meant that I wasn't in the hospital—which meant, I was near Edward. If you asked me what I did those two days, I couldn't tell you. Everything between leaving his room, finishing my shift that night, and the start of my next shift is a complete blur. I moved as if I were on autopilot—eating at the appropriate times, resting on my bed when it was dark but never fully sleeping. When I did sleep, it was fitful and not restful. Thankfully, when I returned back to work, it broke up the monotony of my life with its constant chaos and spontaneity.

Out of respect for Edward's wishes, I refrained from visiting his room during my free time on shifts. Even though I had been keeping track of his status through the nurses that were assigned from his case, I didn't go as far as to look up his chart on the electronic medical system. I knew that if Edward learned that I had been keeping tabs on him by reviewing the details written in his chart, he would be furious. Thankfully, the nurses I had confided in about the situation were exceptionally compassionate. As I didn't know much about Edward's recovery, Angela Webber, Tyler Crowley and—surprisingly—Jessica Stanley were my confidants about the situation. Thankfully they were spread along the hospital floors, which made my stalking a little less creepy as I was unsure of where exactly Edward was located. When I ran up to the nurses' station between patients, Angela, Tyler or Jessica will give me a quick update—Edward waking up after his surgery, he being moved to different room, his general recovery, and the stream of Chicago's finest that come and visit him.

Thank the stars that I work with a wonderful and understanding bunch of coworkers.

A week after Edward's accident, I walked up to the nurse's station to speak to Angela about Edward's status.

"How's he doing, Ang?" I ask, flipping through a patient's chart.

"Oh," Angela answers in a confused tone. "You haven't heard?"

"Heard what?" I pause mid-flip and look up at Angela.

"He's been discharged by Drs. Newton and Hale. In fact, he was just discharged no more than 10 minutes ago."

"What? What room is he, Ang?" I quickly ask, slamming my chart shut.

"410! Bella! He's not going to be—," Angela starts, but is interrupted by my hasty 'thanks' before I make my way to the fourth floor.

I sprint up the two flights of steps to the fourth floor. As I burst out from the stairwell, I almost run into a cart of folded bed linens.

"Sorry!" I yell to the housekeeper as I dodge her cart. By the time I make it to 410, I slow to a stop. The door of the room is mostly closed, but not shut. Inside, I can hear the tinny sounds of laughter from the TV and the jokes from a popular comedy show.

My blood is pounding in my ears from either my brief spurt of physical activity or nervousness, I am not sure. I reach out and knock lightly on the door, half-hoping that the sounds of the TV have drowned out my knock.

"Come in," Edward's voice responds. The sounds of the TV disappear.

_Fuck_, I think to myself. _He's still here._

Taking a deep breath, I open the door and slowly walk into Edward's room—physically ready for Edward's reaction. My mental preparedness was not ready to see Edward sitting up on his bed in plain clothes and untethered to the quiet machines next to his bed. Now that he is no longer covered by blankets, I can see the extent of the trauma. He looks gaunt from the lack of comfort foods and exercise. His right arm has a large gauze patch tapped near the crook of his elbow. The skin around it has short, criss-crosses of red from where one could've fallen down and slid on gravel. The cuts on his face have also mostly healed, leaving a faint red line. My tears well up with long unshed tears. I rapidly blink, hoping to keep them at bay.

"Bella," he says softly, moving to stand up. The movement causes him to wince and press an arm against his abdomen.

"Please," I beg quietly with an open palm to him. "Don't get up for me."

Edward looks at me with a mixed expression and slowly sits back down on his bed, dangling one leg over the edge of the bed as if he is trying to make this encounter as casual as possible. I lower my hand and into my pocket, where I absently ball it around my Blackberry. I take a deep breath.

"You look well," I state, lamely.

Edward gives me a half-crooked smile. "You as well."

"Heard you were going home. Congrats on that. I'm glad you were able to feel better quickly," I prattle. I shift my weight from one foot to another, realising how stupid I probably sound to him.

Edward gives me a crooked smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. It's obvious that this situation is just as awkward for Edward as it is for me. But neither of us knows how to defuse the situation—without making it more awkward. Except, I know if I ask him the most basic question, I can either clear the air or complicate matters. Yet, I don't know if I _want_ to know the answer, nor if the timing is appropriate.

The silence draws on. I can hear the analog clock in Edward's room _tick tick tick_ the seconds away and a door down the hall click shut. In the silence, I start to think about the events that led up to this moment, causing my breath to hitch slightly as I think about how Edward looked like after his surgery.

Edward's noticed the change in me—either with my shallow, almost gasping breaths or the scrunching of my shoulders. It's obvious he wants to comfort me, but he is unsure of how to do so. It's almost as if he's afraid of _me_.

I close my eyes, trying to commit this moment to memory. Instead of feeling the pain and hurt welling up inside, I focus on the noise of the clock.

Breathe in, breathe out…

I take a leap of faith.

_Open your eyes now._

I take one last deep, cleansing breath and hope that it's enough as I fix my gaze on Edward.

"Can I ask you something?" I ask, pulling out my hands from my lab coat. I absentmindedly wipe the palms of my hands over the rough material.

"Always, Bella," Edward answers with a soft voice.

"Why did you not want me to be with you?" I ask in a surprisingly strong and unwavering voice.

I see Edward's face contort into an expression of pain before he lowers his head, causing me to hold my breath. Now I am sure that I may not want to hear the reason why he shut me out.

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><p><strong>AN**: Thanks for sticking around, guys. 3


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